


Salvation

by willingtowhateverend



Category: Harry Potter - J. K. Rowling
Genre: Depression, Eventual Hermione Granger/Severus Snape, Eventual Romance, Eventual Smut, F/M, Hogwarts Eighth Year, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, Severus Snape Lives, Substance Abuse, Suicidal Thoughts, Teacher-Student Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-18
Updated: 2021-01-25
Packaged: 2021-03-11 04:28:34
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 7
Words: 22,498
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28159062
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/willingtowhateverend/pseuds/willingtowhateverend
Summary: [ON HIATUS] Following the end of the war, Hermione falls into a deep depression. It takes two years for Hogwarts to be rebuilt. When the school finally reopens, Hermione sees it as the final chance of regaining a shred of her past life. Little does she know, there is another who hopes for the chance of a new beginning.
Relationships: Hermione Granger/Severus Snape
Comments: 23
Kudos: 79





	1. Harrowing

**Author's Note:**

> \- First and foremost, I would like to say this is a blend of both book and movie canon. I took the bits I liked from each and meshed them to my satisfaction.  
> \- I would also like to mention that I won’t include any Cursed Child canon.  
> \- The same can be said about canon such as Hogwarts Mystery and the likes. I simply haven’t played any of these new games and don’t know their storylines.  
> \- While I dearly love Alan Rickman’s portrayal of Snape, his portrayal is something I completely associate with the movies.  
> In light of that, I would like to say that my personal headcanon for book-Snape is Louis Garrel.  
> \- Drarry, Dramione, Romione, Harmony or Sharry aren’t my cup of tea, so any relations between these characters will be strictly platonic. This is after all a Snamione fic.  
> \- This fic deals with topics such as suicide, substance abuse, violence, self-harm. You have been warned.  
> \- This fic is a slow-burn, or maybe a medium-burn? Hehe. Personally, I like my slow-burns torturous. In a perfect world and a fic specifically tailored for my preferences, the two main characters wouldn't even know about each other's existence until I'm at least like 50 chapters in, not to mention talking to each other then developing feelings. But I promise I will try and let the story develop naturally, so where there is room for more, there will be.
> 
> This fic is dedicated to my grandparents. My grandpa married my grandma when he was 46 and she 24. They had a long and loving marriage, that is until she died of breast cancer at 44. She died a few years before I was born, so I never got the chance to meet her. My grandpa has never been the same ever since. This fic is dedicated to them and to the fact that even with a huge age difference, they still made their relationship work right to the very end.

It had taken more than two years for Hogwarts, school of Witchcraft and Wizardry to be rebuilt to its former glory. Two long years since the end of the War. Two long years since the stormiest period the British Wizard community has ever seen. The weather in London was cloudy that day, but when wasn't the sky grey or rainy over London? In a little flat in the eastern part of the capital, Hermione Granger stood by the window, watching the grey skies in absolute silence.

There she stood, gaze lost into the distance, a piece of paper crumpled in her hand. Why a flat? Why wasn't Hermione living at her parents' house? Her parents… No, she didn't want to start crying again. Hermione didn't know what caused it, maybe she'd cast the spell wrong in the first place, maybe she took too long to reverse it. Now it was too late. She found herself unable to reverse the memory spell she had cast on her parents. They couldn't remember her. They were still Monica and Wendell Wilkins, still living in Australia. She tried of course. She tried all the spells, all the potions, elixirs, incantations and rituals she knew of but none worked. Hermione couldn't bear to even look at her parents's house. She just rented it to a nice family with two kids and used the money to rent herself a small flat on the outskirts of London.

Ever since the end of the war the three of them: Harry and Ron and her have been more or less bombarded with attention. The whole country wanted to meet them. The whole country wanted to know the Chosen One, the boy who killed the Dark Lord and his friends. Wizarding tabloids were after her at any possible moment. She couldn’t even pop-in to the corner store for a pint of milk before she was assaulted by flashes of light from magical cameras and dozens upon dozens of questions.

**_‘Hermione, Hermione! Is it true you and Harry Potter are a couple?’_ **

**_‘Miss Granger, how is it to be best friends with the Chosen One?’_ **

**_‘Is it true you harbour feelings for both Harry Potter and Ron Weasley?’_ **

**_‘How does it feel to be among Britain’s top magical talent, considering you have Muggle parents?’_ **

**_‘How hard was it to live in a tent for a year while hunting for a way to defeat the Dark Lord?’_ **

**_‘Is it true you are never returning to Hogwarts?’_ **

**_‘Are you aiming for a top position at the Ministry?’_ **

**_‘What advice do you have for people who are inspired by you?’_ **

Even after two years, this attention still hadn’t died down and Hermione was simply exhausted. Ignoring them or refusing to answer their questions only made matters worse. Their readers demanded something - anything about the Golden Trio, so these reporters simply resorted to making things up. Not that she wasn’t used to it already. By now Rita Skeeter and her fourth year antics were but a distant memory.

On the desk stood multiple editions of the Daily Prophet alongside a couple other magazines such as “Witch Weekly”, “Which Wizard” and the UK version of “Witch Chat”. The cover of one of them had the picture of a very annoyed Hermione trying to desperately cover her face while Cormac McLaggen gave an arrogant smile to the camera. It read:

**GRANGER - DANGER : Just how many hearts can Hermione Granger break? Exclusively for WITCH WEEKLY one of her past jilted lovers comes forward with a shocking confession. “Yeah, we were pretty close during my final year. I was her date for Horace Slughorn’s yule party.” Miss Granger could not be reached for comment. Pg. 4 for the whole story.**

Not to say she was the only one getting this kind of attention. Harry had it ten times worse. There was not a single moment in the day when someone didn’t want to shake his hand, take a picture by his side or steal a couple minutes of his time. It got so bad that people started hounding him at night at Grimmauld Place, knocking on the door, trying to apparate into the house. Ginny was just furious and had taken to jinxing all of them. She and Harry could barely sleep at night due to all this attention. Ever since Harry went public about his relation with Ginny, he couldn’t even trust the very food he ate anymore. Some witches, like Romilda Vane once, were desperate by any means necessary to hide a love potion in his food one way or another. All of them desperate for the Chosen One. Not that Harry didn't try his best to live a pittance of a normal life. He truly did. After all, he's been the Chosen One all his life. He was used by now to the obsessive amount of attention.

Hermione however was not.

From the three of them, Ron enjoyed the attention the most. Finally he was getting the spotlight and recognition he’d been waiting for his entire life. Living in the shadow of six siblings took its toll ever since his childhood. For once, he was more than happy to have the world’s attention. 

In the end, she and Ron didn’t really work out. The weeks following the final battle were the worst, most chaotic period of Hermione’s life and the arguments with Ron just never stopped. Ron wanted to take the world by storm, wanted to breathe and revel in all that glory. Hermione wanted nothing more than to vanish under a stone. Even after all this time, she still hadn't forgiven him for leaving her and Harry while they were searching for Horcruxes. It was an old wound by now, but it still stung. She was just glad that the break-up was mutual and both assured the other of no hard feelings. For the better part, it truly was so. They still spent Christmas and Easter at the Burrow together with everyone else, they still went out for drinks and shopping. Leaving the whole feelings business aside, Hermione was so glad they worked things out and were back to being best friends. Harry was glad too.

Last time they spoke was Easter. Hermione glanced towards one of the newspapers. '27th of August' it read. The crumpled piece of paper in her hand was something Hermione had waited more than two years for.

_Dear Miss Granger_

_I hope my response finds you well and in good health. As to your query, I would be delighted to offer back your place as a student at Hogwarts for you to complete your studies. It would be my pride and joy to have one of our brightest students and war hero attend our school once more. In light of your situation, I have made some arrangements, which we will discuss once you commence your studies._

_Kindest of regards,_

_Headmistress of Hogwarts_

_Minerva McGonagall_

_'Four more days.'_ she thought. A sudden knock on the door startled Hermione and made her instinctively grasp her wand.

"Are you ready? Mum's out on the street. She's getting mental." The unmistakable voice of Ginny came from behind the door. Letting out a soundless sigh, Hermione grabbed her beaded handbag and headed out the door.

While Ron and Harry wanted to stay as far away as possible from the world of academic achievement, both Hermione and Ginny long decided that they wanted to return to school and finish their education properly. Hermione could have taken the honorary N.E.W.T.s, as she was a hero of the war, but decided against. Academia was her refuge, she would not give it up that easily. She spent the entirety of the summer going over all her materials again and again. It was a way of keeping her mind busy. Too busy to think, too busy to let wayward thoughts creep back into her mind, too busy to start tracing again her fingers over the scar Bellatrix left her.

Ginny saw her and tugged her in a deep embrace. 

"You alright?" She asked with a look of concern.

"Yeah, just perfect. Let's go. I'm sure your mum wants to get going. Why is your mum coming anyways?"

"Oh, you know how she is. Wants to accompany her youngest on her last ever school-shopping trip. I'm the last link of the Weasley chain that needs to finish an education. Unless you're not counting Ron-Won-Won." Ginny might have said that with a smile, but she wanted to spare Hermione's feelings as to the second reason. Ginny wasn't herself ready to voice it, didn't want to slip back into a saddened state. Fred… her mum just didn't want to leave moments like this go amiss. She wanted to spend as much time as possible with each of her remaining children.

"Mrs. Weasley!" Hermione almost shouted and the matron gave her the largest of smiles and ran to embrace her. Her embrace was so tight. Yes, yes, Hermione was still there, still breathing, not gone forever underneath the ground.

"Hermione, dear! Are you eating enough?" Mrs. Weasley broke the embrace and gave her a long, hard look. "You look as if the wind could blow you at any given moment."

Not wanting to upset her, Hermione simply gave her a timid smile. "I try to." Most days she was lucky if a slice of bread touched her lips. The only reason she probably had not collapsed yet from anemia, were the plenty Rejuvenation Potions she kept brewing and taking.

"Don't you worry dear, we'll go to the Burrow after this and make you the biggest lunch." 

It didn't start like that though. The first year after the Battle she was more or less getting on. Probably too busy to even start thinking about everything that had transpired. But things changed during the second year. The second year, day after day, she felt herself slip into this state of never ending sadness. Too sad to even get out of bed, too tired to even eat or shower.

"Take my arm." Hermione suddenly said and motioned towards her reaching hand. The two Weasleys grabbed it and just like that, they were gone. 

Ginny was still working on her Apparition license and Mrs. Weasley was simply not interested in learning how to apparate properly. That left her as the most fit for the task.

They apparated in a small alley and soon the door of the Leaky Cauldron stood before them. It looked new and had a shine about it. Hermione pushed it and was greeted by the same gloomy and mysterious atmosphere the inn usually had. A couple stares accompanied their entrance and Hermione could already tell the witches and wizards therein were preparing to ask for a moment of their time. Luckily it only took one hard stare from Mrs. Weasley and most of them lowered their gaze. 

Untroubled, the three ladies made their way backside and finally onto Diagon Alley, only to find it completely bustling. There must have been a million people there: frantic parents, busy wizards and witches going on about their shopping and so many children. The thing about the aftermath of the war is that it really took two years for Hogwarts to be rebuilt, yet all the kids who should've started their education last year or the year prior were doing so just now. It will be quite the sight to see eleven, twelve and thirteen year olds, all in their first year. But once again, there she was almost twenty shopping for school supplies.

It was somewhat cathartic to see Diagon Alley so lively, newly rebuilt. It made her feel as if the war didn't really take place, that it was but a distant nightmare. 

It took all afternoon, but in the end their shopping was done. There wasn't one shop where people's eyes weren't following them, especially Hermione. That's how Harry must be feeling all the time, always the centre of attention, whether he willed it or not. Hermione was grateful there were no cameras. People seemed to respect their privacy for the most part. 

"Are you alright?" Ginny said, resting a hand on Hermione's shoulder. She was not. Hermione was feeling exhausted and realized she hadn't eaten anything that day. She didn't even take her customary potion.

"Nothing. Just tired is all."


	2. The Castle

The 1st of September finally came and Ginny and Hermione apparated in a public bathroom in King's Cross Station. Due to the importance of the day, the station was crawling with Ministry employees. The volume of magical people that had to cross the barrier to platform 9¾ was quite sizable, so the Ministry wanted to make sure the whole ordeal would go well. That meant Harry and Ron were nearby.

The two boys took their Auror training incredibly serious, one thing that made Hermione a little happy. It was nice to see them dedicated to something for once. That is, apart from trying to get rid of the Dark Lord. Hermione still remembered vividly the weeks following the Battle of Hogwarts. They were complete and utter chaos. Some part of the Wizarding world rejoiced at finally being free of the War, but for many others life was bleak. For none more than Harry. No one would leave him alone. No one would give him a moment's peace to mourn Lupin and Tonks and Fred and all the other dead. 

Hermione remembered one night at Grimmauld Place, a couple weeks after the end of the war. Ron was with Ginny at the Burrow and Hermione came to check on Harry to make sure he was alright. With Harry no longer having to return to the Dursleys and him being the legal heir to the house, Harry moved to Grimmauld Place by himself. Ginny had of course wanted to move in with him, but Mrs. Weasley forbade it until they would be married.

Hermione had never seen Harry cry like that night. He cried until he couldn't produce any sound. He cried for all the dead at Hogwarts, he cried for his parents, he cried for Sirius, he cried that he himself had to die in order to win the battle. Something broke in Harry during that day in May, during the battle, something Hermione was unsure Harry would be able to ever regain. His misery made Hermione so upset that she too started crying and told him that she had been unable to reverse the spell she placed upon her parents. Apart from all her friends, Hermione was completely alone.

Exiting the bathroom, the two were greeted with a swarm of people. 10.30am announced a huge clock hanging atop of a brick wall. They still had plenty of time. Hermione picked more than a few tricks in the time she'd spent fighting the war and one of them was - always keeping her belongings at her side. Her beaded bag was safely stored at her ankle. Only that morning, Hermione shrunk both her and Ginny's chests and school supplies and put them in the bag. Made it easier to transport them. 

The two of them made their way to platforms nine and ten and soon enough two familiar faces greeted them.  She had missed the both of them. Ginny ran and embraced Harry, while Ron gave Hermione a warm smile. 

"Blimey 'Mione, you look like you've seen better days." Ron said and Hermione remarked that he himself looked quite tired. 

"Honestly Ronald! Candid as always." 

The four of them descended in a lively chat about the Ministry and Harry said that it felt nice to have some form of structure back. Made him feel like he had a form of control over his life. Their chat was soon interrupted by a flash of light and before Hermione knew it, both Harry and Ron had their wands out, ready to protect them. 

"Ah! I hope you got a good shot." A high-pitched voice said "I can already see the title: The Brain of the Golden Trio - Back to School!" 

"Ugh -" Ron gave an exasperated sigh, putting his wand away. "I swear, one day, just one day, without you lot!" Harry looked quite sour and quickly followed suit. 

"Milena Bane, editor at Witch Weekly." The witch cheerfully announced. She was dressed in an elegant, velvety suit and had just the most healthy and shining hair Hermione had ever seen. Behind her there was a smaller man, holding a peculiar looking camera. "Now I see the three pieces of the mozaic are all together." She continued equally as cheerful, eyeing Ron and Harry. Off to see your friend to school, boys?"

"Yes, and if you would excuse us the Hogwarts Express leaves soon and we would like to say our goodbyes. Privately." Harry voiced his thoughts in a cold tone and took Ginny's hand. The two of them disappeared towards Platform 9 ¾. Ron gave Hermione one glance and then ran towards the brick wall himself. Hermione was just about to do the same when her path was blocked by Milena.

"Where were you cooped up all this time? All my colleagues from just every other publication tell me you just never leave the house, not to mention give an interview. Our readers are thirsty Hermione! They want to know more about the witch behind the frizzly hair!" She gave her assistant a sign and then another flash blinded Hermione. A couple muggles gave them curious glances. 

There was something about the flash and the way the woman laughed, that for a second Hermione was transported back at Malfoy Manor. Before she knew her wand was in her hand, pointing towards Milena's chest. The journalist froze, her eyes glued to the tip of the wand. 

"No more questions!" Hermione said, before running panicked towards the platform. A flash followed her every move. After that display, she could already see the title: "The Brains of the Golden Trio cracks under pressure" or "Hermione Granger - one step from being a total wacko." Milena had at least the common sense to keep her distance, after Hermione spotted her on the platform just a couple moments later. 

Ron was back to trying to look cheerful, albeit tired, while Harry was just giving Ginny a peek on her cheek. Ron eyed Hermione and gave her one of his half-hearted smiles.

"Hope you don't expect one of those from me." He said, opening his arms and giving her a goodbye embrace. 

"Not in a million years." She wrapped her arms around him and stayed for a couple seconds in his embrace. For all that was worth, she was glad her friends were there today. 

"We'll come to the Three Broomsticks for your birthday Hermione, it's just a couple weeks." Harry told her then embraced her as well and together with Ron, they took their leave. Ginny looked with longing eyes towards Harry, then bid Hermione to go. A short whistle followed and the Hogwarts Express departed. 

The two witches found a compartment of their own and soon none other than Luna joined them. She looked much healthier than two years prior, as her stay at Malfoy Manor affected her as much as the others. To Hermione's disappointment, she realized she had lost touch with not only Luna, but many of her friends in the last year. She swore in her mind to do better from now on.

"Oh Hermione, there's lots of Plimpies around your head. Did you by any chance visit any attics lately? They really love attics." Luna said in her serene voice. Instinctively Hermione touched her hair to see if she could find a Plimpy, but no, nothing came up.

"I'll try to remember if I've been in one lately." She replied and after that she and Ginny started a heated chat. At some point, after they must've passed Leeds, Hermione saw a small commotion in the corridor of the train. She was surprised to see Draco's blue eyes staring at her. He looked at her for just a few moments then disappeared from sight.

"What was that about?" Ginny asked, eyeing Hermione with a frown. Luna looked incredibly distressed. Draco's appearance must have triggered the memory of her imprisonment. Ginny tried calming Luna down but she looked as if she was ready to cry. Hermione just hoped the Ravenclaw girl would feel a bit better soon.

***

Hogsmeade station looked misty that evening, Hermione thought, while the three girls made their way onto the platform. The tall shadow of the castle rose in the distance, shrouded in the same mist that plagued the station as well. Among the crowd, there was one who towered above all and whose voice boomed, drowning all the general noise. 

"First years this way! First years to me!" Hermione smiled warmly towards Hagrid, who waved back. He was already attracting at least 30-so individuals.

"Do you think they'll have enough boats for all the new kids?" Ginny asked, helping Luna out with her belongings. 

"It's not like Professor Flitwick can't just multiply them." Luna added, her dreamy eyes lost in the distance. "I just hope the lake will be calm tonight. So many children might upset the water, and everything that dwells underneath." 

Both Ginny and Hermione looked at each other with a concerned look but neither said anything. It was best to let it go. 

"Come on Luna, I want to get to the feast, I really missed the pudding." Ginny said and started walking towards the carriages.

"Oh, me too!" 

***

Being back at the Gryffindor table, back in the Great Hall made Hermione feel conflicted. The last time she had been in this room, it was to help everyone recover the dead and mourn them. She felt Ginny, who was seated by her side, squeeze her hand. Hermione squeezed back. The last time Ginny had been in this room, Fred… 

Their silent moment was interrupted by Professor Flitwick opening the great doors and walking in the hall, followed by a great, great number of first-years. Hermione studied them as they passed by. Some of them were eleven, some twelve, some thirteen. She watched them with a tingling of sadness. It wasn't fair for those who were 12 or 13 to start their education just now. They should have been already in their second and third years. Yet again, there she was, almost twenty, finishing her seventh year. It seemed the war was a gift that kept on giving. But it was not joy it brought, but death and grief and missing. 

***

Severus stared at his empty golden plate, well aware that there was more than one pair of eyes hurriedly gazing in his direction. It was as if they were checking for any sign of him just getting out of his chair and starting to cast unforgivable curses. 

He needn't use Legilimency to read their thoughts. Everything was plainly written on their faces. Traitor. Murderer. Severus tried to ignore them. It didn't matter. 

Waves of tired students slowly made their way into the hall and took their seats. Severus studied them with bored interest, when his eyes fell upon an unmistakable mane of red hair. The Weasley girl, Potter's sweetheart. And next to her walked another mane of frizzly, chestnut hair. Granger. Severus dreaded this moment. The moment of a reunion with any member of the Golden Trio. He could only thank his lucky stars that it was only Granger who opted to come back to school to finish her studies and not Potter and Weasley too. Two years had passed since the War, that's true, but Severus was not yet ready to truly face the trio. Not after crying his memories to them on the brink of death. Not after Potter saw his deepest secrets.

Severus watched the two girls take a seat somewhere on the far end of the Gryffindor table. The Weasley girl looked in good health, albeit grim, but Granger? Granger looked more dead than alive. She had lost so much weight that Snape wondered how she was still able to walk? Her mane, once a storm of healthy hair, flowed lifeless and dirty around her shoulders. Her eyes looked aimlessly around, studying everything with an empty gaze. Suddenly, they fell on him. Severus quickly averted his gaze.

Little did Granger know he found the return to normalcy quite hard. It had taken him the better part of a year to recover from the injuries Nagini inflicted. His neck now bore deep, scarcely healed scars. Nagini's magical nature proved to be as troublesome as its deadly bite. No wound inflicted by a normal animal would take this long to fully heal, but it seems Nagini's fangs forever marked its targets.

Severus still remembered waking up in St. Mungo's one year after the Final Battle, only to be told that not only had he been in a coma for the better part of a year, but that his trial was held and won in his favor. Due to Potter and Granger's passionate defense, he was now a war-hero. One of the nurses handed him some clippings from past Daily Prophets and he distinctly remembered finding out that the whole country now knew that he'd been a double agent for the light side who only defended Potter due to being in love with his mum.

The second shock came after news broke that he'd been nursed back to full health. An entire avalanche of attention snowballed onto him and even now, one year later, Severus despised thinking about the flood of inquiries about his marital status, letters of congratulations and howlers he'd received. There was nothing more soothing than falling back into blissful anonymity, though a lot of parents were deeply unhappy that a former Death Eater was returning to teach their crotch fruits precious knowledge. The DADA position must have been truly cursed. After the events of two years past, he longed somehow to return to his poorly lit and cold Potions classroom. He enjoyed being so close to the lake and he surely enjoyed teaching Potions more than DADA.

Where else was he supposed to go but Hogwarts? The thought of opening his own apothecary did surely cross his mind but Severus felt the time wasn't right for that. Who else would hire him? The opinions on his actions were severely split across the wizarding population. All he longed for was to be back within the walls of Hogwarts and his oak bed in his quarters in the dungeons.

He should have died that day. He could have, had it not been for his elusive savior. In the long quiet of the dungeons he often wondered who it was. Who sought him and fought with such fierceness for his life. Severus wanted to know … just so he could thank them. Or curse them. For giving him another chance at life and for denying him his due. He was no fool. So many died, while he was given another chance at living.

How ironic. He could have been killed by the very symbol his house bore, the very animal emblazoned on every tapestry adorning the dungeons, the very creature he borrowed mannerisms and a line of thinking from: a snake. No, in the long days of recovery he reached the conclusion that for the Final Battle it wasn't Potter who was raised as a pig for slaughter, it was him. Dumbledore played him, just as he had played Potter. And to think that in the end, he would have died for nothing. Voldemort truly thought the allegiance of the wand lied with Snape, as he was the one to kill Dumbledore. Yet the Dark Lord never predicted that Draco, then Potter would've thwarted his plans with the wand. Severus knew not what to do. Did Albus deserve his forgiving?

His long string of thoughts was soon interrupted when he realized the sorting ceremony was almost done. It was not Minerva reading the names this year, as she was standing in the middle of the table, in the Headmaster's chair, but Flitwick.

When the sorting was done, Minerva rose from her chair and welcomed everyone back. She gave what could be called a "heartfelt and melodramatic" speech about standing in unity, new beginnings and the power of pushing forward. The Wizarding community, while having suffered unspeakable losses, pushed forward. She finished her discourse by informing everyone that should they want to pay their respects to the victims of the war, a memorial now stood on the Seventh Floor.

The feast was as delicious and plentiful as always. He ate silently. Severus truly reveled in the fact that none of his colleagues bothered him with pointless conversations. He wasn't in the mood for blabbering. A small commotion at the Gryffindor table caught his attention and to his disgust, he saw Granger vomiting. Shortly, she got up and ran out of the hall, followed by the Weasley girl. None of his colleagues seemed to have noticed, but after that display Snape had lost his appetite. Putting the fork down, he moved his fingers and one of the House Elves appeared behind him. He pointed towards the Gryffindor table and then just as quick the vomit disappeared to the bewilderment of the other nearby Gryffindors.

***

The moment the food touched her lips, Hermione started feeling ill and by the third bite her stomach could bear no longer. With a groan, she started vomiting the food back on the plate to the startled and disgusted stares of her fellow Gryffindors. With tears in her eyes, Hermione saw that the discharge had a blue glow to it, the sure effect of her abuse of Rejuvenation potions. Breathing heavily, she rose from the table and ran out of the hall, already feeling a second wave of sickness overcoming her. She managed to make her way to the bathroom on the first floor before she fell on her knees and started coughing up blood into the toilet. She wasn't alone for long, as soon enough a familiar pair of steps came behind her.

"Hermione!" Ginny almost shouted and fell on her knees near her friend. "Are you alright? Can you talk?"

Hermione gave a timid nod before another violent coughing fit. By the end of it, her hands were covered in blood and heavy tears fell upon her cheeks. 

Ginny left and shortly returned with Madam Pomfrey. With great difficulty the three women made their way to the Infirmary and the last thing Hermione remembered before falling asleep out of sheer exhaustion was Madam Pomfrey pointing her wand at her stomach and murmuring an incantation.

***

Granger and the Weasley girl did not return by the end of the feast. Snape could only assume they went back to the Gryffindor common room or up to the infirmary. Not that he cared. At the end of the feast, he rose from the table, greeted Minerva and started to make his way back to the dungeons. He needed an evening of quiet and peace, before having to return to teaching all these impudent children.

A hidden door in his office marked the entrance to his private quarters. Severus was just glad to be there. This room was his one constant in a world of ever change. 

While laying in bed, the potions-master could do nothing but think. It seemed sleep wouldn't grace him just yet. This would be the first year in his teaching career where, for once, he could fully dedicate himself to teaching. No longer a puppet to be played with, no longer passing information back and forth between two Puppeteers. He thought, like on many other occasions, about his future. It was true, without Voldemort’s constant looming threat it was as if something had finally been awakened within himself. A dormant lust for life, a bold longing for the world’s joy. But also a weird sense of being directionless. His life's purpose had been to bring down the Dark Lord. What now?

_ 'Has this mean, harsh exterior served its purpose _ ?' he thought. Was he finally ready to let the mask slip? Tomorrow was the start of a new year and truly his chance of molding a new life for himself. It was time to honour the chance he'd been given. Severus swore to himself that he would try to be a more patient, understanding and forgiving teacher. That was his resolution. Time to stop having the starring role in some of his students' nightmares.

In light of his survival he even considered forgiving James. But he quickly dispersed that thought. The old Severus died that day in the Shrieking Shack. Now he was reborn and mayhaps ready to finally let go of all that he endured. 

***

The next morning Hermione woke up feeling better than she'd felt in months. She felt clean and rested. By her side stood Ginny who hadn't left the entire night and was now sleeping in an agitated manner. Hermione observed that she was no longer dressed in her robes but in one of her personal pairs of pajamas. She stared out into nothingness for a while, content with just the peace and quiet. Sooner or later someone would come.

Sure enough that prediction came true and the door of the infirmary opened to make way for Professor McGonagall and Madam Pomfrey. The look on McGonagall's face was one of pure concern. The commotion woke Ginny up, who quickly realized Hermione had woken up as well.

"Miss Granger!" Minerva began, her wise eyes eyeing the girl. "Thank goodness you're awake."

"What happened?" Hermione asked and found her voice to be almost a whisper. She found it difficult to speak. It was as if a weight was placed upon her stomach. 

Madam Pomfrey quickly came to her side and checked if anything seemed wrong. Satisfied with her inspection, the mediwitch gave her a soft glare before replying:

"The wall of your stomach was almost perforated and glowing a strident blue. A couple days more and it would've given in. You would've died from internal bleeding." 

Out of the four of them, Ginny seemed to take the news the worst. Her face got as white as a sheet and her brown eyes were widened in shock.

"It is not very often I see a case such as this." Madam Pomfrey continued. "But I am completely sure both the glow and the weakened stomach were caused by a potion overdose. I found no traces of solid food in your stomach. That must have quickened the erosion. Any potion is great in small doses, but as you can see, large doses have disastrous effects."

The more Madam Pomfrey talked, the worse Hermione felt. She felt so ashamed that her closest friend and her favourite teacher were finding out this way about her problem. All she wanted was to bury her head in the sand and disappear. Where was the courageous Gryffindor in her?

"I managed to wash your innards. Also started repairing the inner walls of your stomach. Though, your recovery will be slow. Due to the large quantities you've ingested, your body now has a high sensitivity to any type of potion. I cannot use any medical elixirs to quicken your recovery, so I will simply have to treat you using spells and balms."

"Miss Granger, why haven't you been eating? What's wrong?" Professor McGonagall asked and all three pairs of eyes fell upon Hermione intently. She was at a loss of words, how could she tell everyone the true reason for her sickness? 

She stared at them, unable to produce a sound. 

"This discussion will have to wait." Poppy Pomfrey declared. "This is clearly upsetting my patient."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks to everyone who read and commented until now! I will try and update this fic on a weekly basis from now on.


	3. Lemon Drops

Ginny visited her every day that week and talked about all the classes she'd missed. The youngest Weasley girl couldn't be counted among the most dedicated students, but nevertheless she brought all of Hermione's homework and stayed by her side every evening in order to finish it together. Hermione couldn't ask for a more devoted friend. She told herself that she should show Ginny her appreciation somehow.

Not only was Hermione bed ridden for the week due to her fragile frame, but she was also forbidden from eating anything that was not soup. Madam Pomfrey was feeding her the lightest foods possible in order to not strain her stomach any further. Hermione was grateful for the care, but she felt bored out of her mind. If she saw one more cream of peas and ham soup, she would scream. Great way to spend her first week back at school.

The care however seemed to lift her spirits. It felt quite nice to be back inside the walls of Hogwarts, seeing all these familiar faces. Little by little, she felt her strength return and by the end of the week she almost felt ready to get out of bed. Friday night found her reading from "Complex Transfigurations" by Avis Bitterwood and taking down notes for her Transfiguration homework, when the doors to the infirmary opened. It was evening so Hermione expected to see Ginny through those doors, but to Hermione's shock it was Draco Malfoy walking with quick steps towards her. 

Almost panicked, Hermione looked frantically for her wand but could not find it. 

"Granger. Please." He stopped a couple steps away from her. "I just want to talk."

"Talk?" Hermione eyed him, looking for any sign of his wand. There seemed to be none. He didn't have his wand out, ready to jinx her. She gave him a tiny nod. With a small sigh of relief, Draco sat down on the chair by her bedside. 

"I wanted to talk to you on the train, but you were surrounded by your friends." He scratched the backside of his head, clearly trying to find his words. "Then no one saw you since the welcoming feast. Erm - I figured something might be wrong."

Not that Hermione paid attention but with Draco, that was four Sixth and Seventh years affected by the war that came back to finish their education: Ginny, Luna, Draco and her. Hermione made a mental note to check who else came back. 

"Listen Granger, I…" another uncomfortable pause. "The War is behind us and like McGonagall said at the feast."

"About second chances?"

"Yeah. About that. I've done some things and - I'm just not proud of them."

A sudden pang of sympathy hit Hermione. Draco looked like he'd seen better days. She had no idea what followed for him after the end of the War but it mustn't have been terrific. Last she heard, Lucius was sentenced for the third and last time to life in Azkaban. Maybe the time without his father's influence changed Draco. He did seem like he didn't have that venom in him anymore and just like her, he seemed sad.

Had it not been for Draco, the three of them would have surely found their end at Malfoy manor. Draco's change of heart both then and at the Battle of Hogwarts was one of the decisive factors that cost the Dark Lord his victory.

"Sorry." That's all he managed to say before suddenly rising and rushing out of the room. Hermione didn't stop him. There was no need.

***

At the same time in another part of the castle, Severus Snape paced incredibly irate through Minerva’s office. In the dying ashes of the fireplace stood a myriad of destroyed howlers. If one listened carefully, one could hear a faint choir of voices, all screaming obscenities, all coming from the burnt papers.

"Minerva, this is preposterous. I cannot perform my duties if this occurrence keeps on happening." The potions master said, giving the most disgusted look towards the fireplace. For days now he has been hounded by howlers, the lot of them from angry parents and members of the magical community, all incredibly upset that he was returning to his position as a teacher at Hogwarts. Severus surely thought the letters died down a year ago, but no. Hogwarts reopening brought a new flurry of awareness upon himself, especially after the Daily Prophet published an article called "Former Death Eaters - back at Hogwarts" where he was featured as the main star of the article, but Draco and other Slytherins also made an appearance. Parents were revolted that their children had to be in the same physical building as former Death Eaters. No amount of Wizengamot ruling in Snape’s favour and calling him innocent would appease these parents. So they had taken to the only form of protest they could find, harassing him. 

The Headmistress got up from the desk that had once belonged to Albus Dumbledore and let her gaze fall to the lake outside. “This time has not been without its challenges, I’ll admit.” Perhaps she was getting old. Rebuilding Hogwarts had been truly a monumental task. What could be even a more challenging effort was actually administrating the damned school.

“Severus, I’ve had the most appalling week! I have reporters all around Hogsmeade, the lot of them requesting exclusivity rights to writing a story about Hogwarts pushing forth after the destruction of the War. More than once the names of Miss Granger and Miss Weasley were mentioned.” Her nimble fingers found the thin frame of her glasses and quickly she took them off. Blue eyes so full of knowledge now looked upon the Potions-Master. “Severus, we are supposed to protect them. Every single student in this school. I feel I am already failing.”

Without a move on her part, the Headmistress felt the glasses leaving her hand, cleaning themselves up and gently placing themselves once more around her eyes. A grateful nod in Snape’s direction followed. The cheeky rascal, still had non-verbal, wandless magic in him. “I worry about them. I want Hogwarts to promote unity above all. No more house rivalry. We work best together.”

A sharp noise interrupted their conversation, as a brown owl appeared at one of the windows, pecking to get in. Minerva opened it and the owl simply let the letter fall onto her desk before flying out again. The Headmistress quickly looked towards the desk before speaking again. “I will try and talk with the house elves about the mail sorting process. Maybe their magical talent can provide a solution to your problem even our own wands could never.”

Taking that as his cue to leave, Snape gave a curt nod and turned. One last blurb interrupted his leaving, right as he was about to open the door.

“Miss Granger suffers from a rare condition at the moment. That is the reason for her brusque departure during the welcoming feast to the hospital wing. She seems to have developed an allergy to any kind of potion smell or taste. Please, be kind to her Severus.”

The potions master left without another word.

***

The days flew by and in the end Sunday came. After a final inspection, Madam Pomfrey seemed happy with Hermione's condition and let her go. Although her leaving the infirmary had some strict conditions attached. She had been assigned a personal house elf called "Blinky" who was in charge of not only cooking her special food but also making sure she was not eating anything that wasn't allowed. For the better part of the day it was as if Blinky didn't even exist, but mealtimes were a completely different situation. Just the small whiff of a potion was enough to make Hermione gag, so she was actually quite glad to have Blinky around. 

Early on Monday morning, Hermione woke up in her dormitory feeling eerily rested. In a bed closeby, Ginny was still sleeping soundly. Had she not left the Welcoming Feast in such a brusque manner, Hermione would've found out way earlier that she and Ginny were given a private dormitory that year as a boon for their service. It definitely felt nice sharing a bedroom with her closest girl friend.

A shy and high pitched voice startled Hermione.

"Blinky is sorry to disturb you, but Blinky was told to deliver you a message. The Headmistress is waiting for you in her office at the present time. She would be delighted to offer you 'Lemon Drops'."

"Thank you, Blinky." Hermione responded in a hushed tone, pointing towards Ginny.

With a startled nod, the house elf vanished, leaving Hermione to her own devices. Suddenly, the implication of the house elf's request hit her. She was to go to the Headmistress and tell her everything as she had promised a week ago. That thought seemed to completely crush her newfound peace. Hermione didn't feel up to the task at all. All she felt like doing right then was to hide herself under the covers and forget the world existed.

With the biggest mental effort, Hermione finally rose from her bed and started getting dressed. Just a quick chat with the Headmistress and then she could go and have breakfast. The long descent to the Ground Floor went by awfully quick and before she knew it, Hermione was standing in front of the statue that marked the entrance to the Headmistress's office.

"Lemon Drops." She said in barely a whisper and moved quickly towards one of the steps, as the statue started spinning upwards. Soon, she knocked on the door.

"You may enter." the unmistakable voice of McGonagall came from inside. Hermione entered and found the Headmistress seated at a desk, dressed in dazzling emerald robes. Her blue eyes were fixating her and they beckoned Hermione to sit on a nearby chair.

"Miss Granger. You look in much better health. I am quite pleased Poppy managed to patch you right up." McGonagall spoke, taking a bite from a delicious looking chocolate biscuit. Hermione was unsure, but the woman seemed maybe just a tiny bit plumper? It definitely seemed she had inherited Dumbledore's passion for sweets as she saw the Headmistress taking and biting from another chocolate biscuit. Maybe it was a Headmaster thing, something she inherited with the office. 

"Would you like a biscuit, Miss Granger?" McGonagall asked, but Hermione shook her head. Blinky would definitely be disappointed if she ate something that wasn't in her diet. "Are you feeling better, Hermione?"

At the sudden mention of her name, Hermione's eyes darted straight to the Headmistress. There it was, the moment she'd been dreading. 

She could not find the words to voice what her heart felt. How could she tell McGonagall that every day for the past two years Hermione debated whether there was any sense in her living or not. Everyday she willed herself out of bed, one trudging day after another. There was no colour for her. The skies were forever grey. 

In the end, she spoke:

“I have seen the worst this world has to offer.” she sighed, then continued in a quiet voice. “Now I am steeled.” 

Her words broke Minerva’s heart. Long gone was the young, bushy-haired girl with a timid smile and a lust for knowledge. In her stead, there stood a woman trialed in the world’s fire and spat out. In the morning light of her office, Hermione suddenly seemed so much older than she truly was and Minerva was horrified to discover that the Hermione Granger she knew was gone. There stood something so much more.

Minerva had seen the horrors of war. Twice. She knew the price victory mandated. But while the dead were mourned and remembered, the living seldom received importance. She should have been there for Hermione. Her favourite student. Her protegee. Yet Minerva had been just so busy with the aftermath of the war that it never crossed her mind, not even once, that Miss Granger was in need of a friend. Was it too late now? 

"Hermione. You are no longer a child. Though you are still studying at this institution, I shall treat you as my peer. My door is always open for you. Please, come by anytime you feel the need."

Hermione was unsure. She might just take the Headmistress on her offer.

***

Later in the evening as the two friends were getting ready for bedtime, Hermione could tell something was really bothering Ginny. The later in the evening it got, the more upset Ginny looked. Hermione saw that her friend kept glancing in her direction, but she pretended not to see it. Right before bedtime, as on que, Ginny broke the silence.

“Are you going to tell me or what? I've waited the entire week.” 

“Tell you what.”

“Hermione!” the red-haired woman nearly exploded. “First you collapse during the Welcoming Feast, then you are hospitalized and I have to find out you basically starved yourself to near death, and now you behave like nothing’s happened and everything is back to normal? Have some respect for me, Hermione! I’m your friend! I’ve been worried sick about you this whole time. I think I am owed at least an explanation.”

Had Ginny not been so upset, the situation would have been near comical. With her arms crossed so and with her furrow, Ginny looked like a younger version of Mrs. Weasley.

"Oh, Gin. I wanted to tell you, just… the time was never right. I didn't want to burden you. You already have enough on your plate, with your family and Harry." There it was again, that feeling of shame. In a couple short steps, Ginny traversed the room and took Hermione's hands into her own.

"Hermione! Never say that again. Please tell me if you're struggling and we can find a solution together."

She almost didn't want to look into Ginny's brown eyes. But her friend's concern won the battle over Hermione's anxieties.

"It's my burden to bear. You can't tell the boys! Promise me Ginny! I'll tell them when the time is right."

"I promise, but only if you stop shutting me out. We're in this together."

Hermione could only nod.

***

That Friday when Hermione entered the dungeons with Ginny by her side, she was greeted with the foul stench of an already brewing potion. Just as quick, the blood drained from her face and she stopped in the doorway, clutching her stomach. 

"Hermione!" Ginny called alarmed, dropping her heavy bag of books. 

Hermione breathed hard, trying her best not to empty the contents of her stomach. Every breath brought forward more of that horrid stench. She gasped desperately, when a heavy hand landed on her shoulder and soon the air cleared and she could breathe again. She was bewildered to discover there now was a big bubble of air around her head, similar to the one Fleur used in the Triwizard Tournament. 

"Granger, you are blocking the entrance." Severus Snape said in a glacial tone. Hermione looked into his onyx eyes with an intent gaze, then she moved, allowing him passage.

Two years had passed. Two years since she saved him in the Shrieking Shack, since she gave him the anti-venom, patched him up and apparated to St. Mungo's then left him there. Two years since she participated in his defense in front of the Wizengamot. Two years that seemed so long ago… 

Hermione went through incredible pains to ensure no one, absolutely no one knew she was the one who saved Severus Snape from a sure death. She went as far as modifying the memories of the mediwitches who saw her apparate the night of the battle. No one must know that she was Severus Snape's savior. It was a secret she was ready to carry to her grave.

As the classroom filled up, the other seventh years gave her the most amused glances. As if struck by lightning, Hermione realized it wasn't Ginny that casted the Bubble-Head Charm on her. She looked towards the front of the room, where Professor Snape now stood, writing on some parchment. Just as sudden, his eyes rose and met hers. With a stony look, he beckoned her forth. Hermione gave Ginny a worried glance, then made her way to his desk.

"There's still a couple minutes until the lesson begins, Miss Granger." He spoke, looking as if her mere presence annoyed the living hell out of him. "The Headmistress has informed me about your condition and I found this charm to be a competent temporary solution. However…"

Hermione looked upon him with only a weary look. It was as if the events of two years past didn't even happen. Why was he behaving so...normal? As if the Battle of Hogwarts never took place, as if Harry and her didn't know about his past, as if he himself hadn't been one step away from death. Things could never go back to the way they were before. She couldn't be afraid anymore, not when she knew about the man behind the mask. Merlin knows Harry tried desperately to talk to him, but every attempt at establishing any sort of relation with the man resulted only in abject failure. Hermione hoped that everything that happened might have changed him a little, but his behaviour seemed unchanged. 

"How do you expect to complete your NEWT in Potions, when you can't even be in the vicinity of a potion, not to mention brewing one? How do you expect to complete your assignments in my class?"

"Forgive me, Sir. I will do my best to not interfere with the rest of the class. My results will remain to my usual high standard. I can guarantee as much." 

He dismissed her with a curt nod and the lesson started. When the lesson finished, Ginny was looking at her quite oddly. They left the dungeons and headed for their next class.

"Is it just me, or was Snape quite calm today?" She said, waiting for Hermione to say something. "I mean don't get me wrong, he's still Snape but… I just didn't feel any of his usual venom today. He almost seemed like a normal teacher."

Severus would have been glad to know his resolution to be a better teacher was already taking roots. 

***

That night Hermione cried into her pillow and felt just so upset. She hadn't expected that Snape's behaviour would affect her so, but for some reason it did and it made her sad. She didn’t even understand why. In a way Hermione felt that saving him created a bond between them. Of course it was stupid of her to feel this way, she thought, when she herself made sure no one would know about her involvement in his rescue. She didn't even understand why she seemed so affected by his cold behaviour when he didn't even know she was his saviour. It wasn't as if anything had changed. He had treated her this way all her past school years. Maybe she hoped that almost dying would change him. Then again, why did she care so much about him changing or not. She had her own problems to deal with, no reason to add Severus Snape to them. Hermione wiped her tears away, trying not to wake Ginny up. She vowed to forget about the man entirely. He was not her problem. Soon she fell asleep in a confused dream.

***

"Hey Granger!" Malfoy said in greeting. The library was quite packed that day and Hermione dully noted there weren't any free seats around but at her table. 

"Anything I can help you with?" She responded neutrally. Draco seemed unfazed by this as he simply pulled a chair and sat down. 

"Now that you ask, sure! I'm having so much trouble with this Transfiguration essay and I figured who better to ask than the smartest person around."

Hermione blinked at the flattery. It was so unlike Draco. No sneer, no arrogance, just a simple smile. His father's absence must have truly done a number on him.

"Which part are you having trouble with?" 

The rest of the afternoon went by quite pleasantly. Turns out that behind all those layers of being a bit of an arse, Draco was actually quite pleasant to spend time with. He surely had a great sense of humor. By evening time, Hermione was silently laughing, trying not to disturb the other students.

When Hermione entered the common room that evening, Ginny beckoned her forth.

"I heard from a fifth year you've spent your whole afternoon with Draco Malfoy. Are you mental?" Ginny said, trying to be quiet.

Hermione blinked, being quite taken aback by this. "No? He just wanted a little bit of help with his homework, that's it. Rumors sure do travel fast in this castle." 

Ginny took to whispering furiously and Hermione noted that her friend seemed quite tense.

"You should stay away from him. It's his fault and people like him that…" but she trailed off, not wanting to finish the sentence. Ginny didn't want to say it, but Hermione knew very well what she meant. Fred, the war, the Dark Lord. Ginny sighed. "I just wish the Hogsmeade weekend would come faster. I miss Harry."

***

Hermione didn’t notice it at first, yet slowly but surely this detail jumped more and more into her eyes. It seemed a lot of the girls at Hogwarts, especially the younger years, wore their hair in curls, and not just that. There was a Hogwarts Student Knitting Club, a lot of the girls seemed to be burying their noses in books and she could swear she saw a couple girls wearing what looked like SPEW badges. The cherry on top was one Monday in the library when Hermione was informed quite dully by Madam Pince that all the books she had requested to loan had already been loaned to other students and had amassed quite the waiting list.

Sitting with a ‘ _hmph_ ’ down on a bench in the Entrance Courtyard, Hermione stared at the Gargoyle statues. That’s when she saw them. A group of six, maybe seven girls, all from different houses, coming towards her. 

“Hermione!” a tall Ravenclaw girl addressed her, who quickly introduced herself as Jane. “We’re so glad you’re feeling better! We heard you’ve been in the Hospital Wing for a week now! Of course we wanted to visit you, but Madam Pomfrey didn’t let us in.”

“Uhm, thanks. Sorry, do I know any of you?” Hermione said, quickly studying them. Three Ravenclaws, two Gryffindors, two Hufflepufs and even one Slytherin.

“We are your fanclub! The official Hermione Granger fanclub.” Jane continued, her eyes sparkling with excitement. “All the girls here look up to you! You are our greatest inspiration, I hope you know that. Everyone admires how you aided in the fight against the Dark Lord.” 

A collective nod followed. These girls couldn’t be more than what, fourteen? They looked so innocent. Hermione pointed a finger towards their chests where an entire array of badges stood. Among badges such as ‘Granger the Changer’ and ‘Girls for Books’, Hermione noted one interesting detail. “Are those actual SPEW badges?”

“Yes! You have no idea how hard it was to get them. We had to…” one of the Hufflepuff girls said.

“Shh, don’t tell her!” A Gryffindor girl cut her off.

“Could you sign our textbooks for us?” Jane continued, signaling the others off. Now that was something. Hermione didn’t think she would get to live the day people wanted her autograph. With a sigh, she accepted a quill from one of the Ravenclaw girls and quickly scribbled her name on all the indicated pages. She didn’t know whether to be honored or embarrassed. 

“The Ron fanclub asks if maybe Ron can come around sometime? Sign some of their textbooks?” The other Gryffindor girl added and the members of the fanclub nodded in support. A most splendid idea.

“The Ron fanclub?” Here it was, the cherry on top. Before Hermione could say anything else, the Slytherin girl quickly spoke.

“Well, Harry has like three different clubs, but we don’t talk to one of them. Their leader is so insufferable! She's a third year from my house.”

That was enough. Hermione got up from the bench, took her bag and turned towards her club to say one final thing. “Look girls, I really appreciate everything. The hair and the attention, but wouldn’t you rather do your own thing? Where’s the fun in imitating another person’s life?”

“You inspire us, Hermione! We want to be like you!” Jane concluded and the other girls vehemently nodded. 

The look on Hermione’s face changed. Her smile faded. All her life people laughed at her teeth and her hair, at her being a muggle and being bookish and now they admired her? They wanted to be like her? Hermione didn’t find this whole club thing adorable anymore. These girls wanted to be her so badly? How would they have faced a year in the tent? The trip to Malfoy Manor? The Final Battle? She turned on her heels and left without saying another word. 

***

Hermione's birthday came that year with little fanfare. Her birthday fell in the middle of the week, so she had to wait for the weekend for the true celebrations. Just as promised, Harry owled her and to her delight, he managed to book the entire upper floor of the Three Broomsticks. That Saturday when Hermione entered the Three Broomsticks, she was greeted by so many people. Harry, Ron and Neville came straight from the Ministry. Ginny and Luna came a bit early from the castle to set the place up. George waved timidly from one corner of the room. Hermione suddenly felt a twinge of sadness looking at him, but he gave her an encouraging smile and started to move around the room. 

"Looking better 'Mione." Ron said, giving her a hug. "Hogwarts life seems to fit you a tad better." 

Hermione nodded curtly. Her health did massively improve in the last three weeks, with Blinky’s constant care, enough sleep and better portioned food. Even her mental state seemed to have improved a little, aside from the occasional crying fit or apparently random depressive episode. Hermione really hoped Hogwarts would finally be able to make her forget all the thoughts that pushed her in the last year to starve herself out, barely sleep and not want to leave her bed.

"Happy birthday! How does it feel to be twenty?" Harry joined the discussion, a butterbeer mustache visible on his upper lip. Ron started snickering and pointed towards his lip. In a quick gesture, the mustache was gone. 

“Better than it felt to be nineteen.” Hermione replied quietly, just being glad her friends were there. “The Ministry treats you well, I hope?” she continued, trying to change the subject.

“Oh, you have no idea!” Harry said, with Ron’s approving nods. “I am so exhausted, I could sleep for a month! That reminds me, your present!” And just as quick, he produced a small box, from a hidden pocket in his robes. Hermione took it, opened it and smiled. Inside was a beautiful writing quill. "Being an auror trainee has its perks, I suppose. Not that they caught me sneaking it anyway!"

"Harry!" She said laughing. 

"What? They won't miss it. They have dozens." Harry continued with Ron nodding vehemently. "It's a special quill. Not only does it make your writing different, but I've tested it myself, it makes it so that no one can trace anything you write back to you. You know, I thought it would be a fun present. Who knows when you're going to want to write prank letters or the like?"

"You're going to love my present then!" Ron added, producing his own small box.

"You sneaked away something too?" The birthday-girl said, smiling at him.

"No… yes. So what if I have? Happy birthday!"

"Oh Ron, Harry…" she said as she pulled them in a tight embrace. "I'm glad you're here."

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Sevmione content is coming next chapter folks!! :)


	4. Once

The birthday party cheered Hermione up a lot. It felt great to see so many people dear to her again. That was until she saw her own face staring back at her from one of the pages of the Daily Prophet. It was a picture of her entering the Three Broomsticks. The article was titled “Hermione Granger celebrates 20th Birthday with the Chosen One and close friends.” Merlin! Couldn’t they leave her alone for one day?!

One Friday afternoon at the beginning of October found Hermione in the Headmistress's office. Hermione felt she needed a calm environment to study and for that afternoon Minerva had agreed to the company and even asked Hermione if there were any questions for her Transfiguration assignments. The two took to working in silence on their respective tasks. Minerva had a lot of parents to respond to, not to mention a school governor meeting the following week. Rebuilding Hogwarts was costly and the funds had to come from somewhere. 

"Headmistress?" Hermione said, breaking the silence. Ever since her birthday she had toyed around with an idea that formed in her mind the moment she saw the quill from Harry.

"Yes, Miss Granger?"

"I was thinking … I mustn't be the only one with some thoughts about the Final Battle." The sentence did sure have an effect. She had Minerva’s complete attention. "I was thinking…" she continued, trying not to tiptoe around the issue. "Right near the memorial on the Seventh Floor, the school could organize something, something to ease the mind of the students and staff that wish to participate." Hermione realized she said all of that in less than a breath. "The school could place two boards near the memorial. One for writing something and one for receiving a reply if someone wishes to respond to you. I could enchant them so that no matter what, the identity of either the writer or the responder are never revealed. Oh, this could be great!"

Minerva almost teared up. It was just wonderful seeing Hermione have a shred of joy in her again, even for something as little as having an anonymous pen-pal. With a firm nod she accepted Hermione's proposal and promised it will be done in a couple days.

The announcement was well received among both staff and older students. When Hermione finally went to put a letter of her own on the board, she was delighted to see that not only was the writer board already full, but there were already a couple replies on the responder board. Her eyes scanned through a couple letters and her newfound joy, just as quickly as it had appeared, disappeared. 

_'My brother was killed by a Death Eater.'_

_'My mom didn't survive Azkaban after being trialed and sent there for being a muggle-born. I'll never see her again.'_

_'My sister lost her sight after being hit with a dark curse. No healer at St. Mungo's can do anything for her.'_

_'Ever since being injured in the fight, I cannot feel my right leg anymore.'_

_'Sometimes I wish I had died and my sister lived. She was a squib, she didn't deserve the torture Death Eaters put her through.'_

_'I should've stayed to fight. Hogwarts is my home but I was too much of a coward to defend it. I was just so afraid.'_

So much pain... 

Delicately, Hermione put her own letter among the many others. _'There'_ she thought. Now she was one of them. After two years, it felt good to put into existence the many thoughts that never let her sleep at night. Hermione felt proud of herself, she was eating again, she finally slept better at night and now she had been brave enough to start the process of opening up about her feelings. Of course, this was a small step, as no one would actually read her letter, among the myriad of other letters, but she felt proud nonetheless. With a sigh and a nod at a job well done she left to find Ginny.

***

"Granger, wait!" A voice beckoned Hermione, just as she was about to enter the Great Hall. She saw Draco making his way to her side, holding a stack of books.

"I have a second name too, you know." She responded, heading towards the Gryffindor table.

"Yeah, I know. It's just that, Hermione doesn't have the same ring to it, innit?" Hermione simply ignored him and sat down. He mirrored her and grabbed a piece of toast, putting the stack of books away. "I'll go down to the Slytherin table in a bit. Just heard it was your birthday. This is for you." 

Hermione saw him hand her a package, with something wrapped in green. It must be a book. 

"I just know you like Arithmancy and I saw this and just thought about you." 

"Thank you, Draco. That's… quite nice of you." She responded, taking the package. He nodded curtly and got up. "Wait, Draco." She said. The Slytherin boy took a seat once again with a plomp. "First the hospital, then the homework, now this. What's changed?" 

Draco must've expected this question, as he responded quite quickly. "Dunno. It's just that, when you and Potter and Weasley were brought to my home, I guess something changed that day. The end of the war changed other things too. I can't offer you more than this." 

An awkward silence fell and Hermione racked her brains for something to say. Draco broke the silence. 

"So, what's with the bubble around your head? You have it every time we're in Potions." Hermione smiled awkwardly but Draco continued. "No, let me guess. It's something to do with why you were in the hospital, right?" 

"Yeah…" she trailed off. "Maybe I'll tell you sometime."

With this Draco rose once again and took his books with him.

"Maybe we can be study partners if you want." Hermione shouted after him, but the only thing he did was wave his hand at her. Hermione smiled at her lunch. Life's full of surprises.

***

The corridor of the Seventh Floor stood empty, as all staff and students were down in the Great Hall, enjoying dinner. ‘ _The best time_ ’, Severus thought, a quiet time for him to come and inspect this newfound attraction of the school. All the staff were buzzing about it, calling it such a good idea. He watched the wooden panels with mild interest. For a split second, Severus even considered writing a confession of his own. But then, what good would it do? Anything that was more than surface details immediately deconspired him as the author of his letter. The details of his story were too specific for someone not to connect the dots. And if he couldn’t fully write what was in his heart then what was the point of the whole exercise?

Through the myriad of pieces of paper and the lines of despair, something caught his eye. _'I saved him. I saved him and I cannot even bear to look him in the eye.'_ With nimble fingers, Severus took the piece of parchment off the board and started reading it.

_‘Dear Stranger,_

_What you have in your hands is my confession. These words have been my encompassment for these last few years. I come before you and bare my thoughts, my very being. I feel the war has taken so much from me. I cannot sleep at night. I wake up in rivers of cold sweat and flashes of green light still etched into my mind. I am forever taken back to the sites of my nightmares. I cannot escape my horrors, not during my sleep, not during my waking hours. Food had lost its taste. Not that I eat much nowadays. Just enough so that I may not faint or be blown into the wind. I look upon my scars and in the darkest of my hours I take my wand and wish I could cut them away, cut my skin and let it be reborn. I don’t want any more reminders. I don’t want to feel anymore._

_So many died right before my eyes. Some I’ve killed myself. Had I not, they would’ve killed me. I am haunted by their screams. I’ve taken lives but I’ve also healed. There is one I saved during the final battle. Yes, I stayed and fought. Fought with everything I had, every last bit of my being._

_I saved him. I saved him and I cannot even bear to look him in the eye._

_I see him and when I gaze at him, I see a window back into my past. I feel both trapped and freed. I am forever taken back to the Battle, to my hands around his neck, feverishly pouring Dittany. My wand in my grip, desperately shouting ‘Anapneo’ My fingers opening his mouth, determined to make him swallow the last drops of my Felix Felicis. To his troubled gasps for air, to his skin cold as ice due to the blood loss, to the light in his eyes, almost fading._

_This is the first time I speak of this in two years. I hope at least you can understand._

_Now my thoughts are forever yours.’_

The more Severus read, the more alarmed he became.

The last thing Severus remembered before falling into what he fought was the embrace of death was Potter. It couldn’t be Potter. To his knowledge, Potter was in London training to be an auror. ‘ _I see him...’_ No, it had to be someone from inside the school. One of the students, or perhaps one of his colleagues. Which of the students were bright enough to know the advanced uses of Dittany and even more, possess even the tiniest drop of ‘Liquid Luck?’

It could have very well been one of his colleagues, yet instinct told Severus that was not true. Before Potter and his friends made the whole world aware of his supposed innocence, he was as good as dead. None of his colleagues would’ve given a rat’s ass about his fate. They would’ve let him die. 

He had asked of course, he had asked who saved him. But no one, not the faculty of Hogwarts, not the healers at Mungo's, not the students who fought in the battle could tell him. No one knew. The last thing he wanted was to approach Potter. Potter might have known, as he was the last to know of his location. Better to leave it unknown than talk to Potter again.

Ah yes, Potter. James's son. Who tried so many times in the last year to reach him. Yet every attempt that Potter made resulted in a quick dismissal from Severus. The last thing he wanted to do was talk to the boy who saw his memories of Lily. The last thing he wanted to do was talk about Lily. She will always have a place in his heart, but it was best to leave her forgotten. All Severus wanted was to live the rest of his life in peace. Far away from her or James's memory.

The author was clever. The note had a strong anti-summoning charm placed on it. No amount of tracking spells would reveal its creator. Severus folded the parchment and hid it inside his robes. The only thing left to do was to reply.

***

The following evening, while studying in the library, Hermione was bewildered to see her wand vibrate. As per the charm she had cast, it meant her confession received a reply. A reply! Packing up her books, she quickly made her way to the Seventh Floor corridor where indeed a piece of paper was waiting on the responder board among others. Hermione looked around, making sure she was alone, then took the paper and hid it in her bag. 

Later that night, as she nestled in her bed, she finally afforded herself some piece of mind and started reading it. 

‘ _To the author of the letter,_

_I don't know how amongst so many other letters, yours especially caught my interest. I read it and your confession inspired me to revisit the time of the War and start coming to terms with some of the things I’ve done, some of the things I had to do to survive._

_I am sure I am not singular when I state that the Final Battle almost cost me my life as well. I too found myself unable to sleep for many nights, kept awake by 'what ifs' and similar thoughts. Some time ago I started a conscious mental effort to try and let go of the War, but until now it had little effect. Maybe I need to do something more. Maybe talking to someone about it might help._

_The passage about the lives you've taken and the life you've saved caught my interest. I would like to know more about that, if you feel comfortable responding. Until then, at least take comfort that the worst is behind us. Life can go on._

_Your responder'_

Hermione read and reread the little letter almost three times and thought long and hard whether she should reply or not. She had said too much, if she continued saying more the other person was sure to discover who she was. With that thought, she put the letter out of her mind and went to sleep.

***

Severus patiently waited for a reply the following day, then the day after and the next. After that he was sure the author simply didn't wish to respond and he put the letter out of his mind. No reason to dawdle on unnecessary thoughts. To his big surprise, while eating his breakfast on Thursday morning, his wand vibrated in his pocket. As Minerva stated just a week prior, a vibration meant an answer. Excusing himself from breakfast, he exited the Great Hall and made his way to the Seventh Floor where the reply waited for him. There were students abound, so quickly he took the letter and made his way to the dungeons.

_‘To the responder,_

_When I wrote my letter I never expected a response. It was more of an exercise into trying to let go. I don’t know what part of my letter caught your interest, but your reply had me surprised. I truly debated whether to reply to you or not, but in the end I deemed necessary a reply, if just to address some of the points you've made._

_I too believe the worst is behind us. My nightmares have finally started to diminish in intensity. I can finally sleep better at night, eat better and try and focus on something else other than the War._

_It's just that, this War has been all encompassing, inescapable, doomed, and for so long I thought I might not see a tomorrow. To think that, not only have I survived when so many others have died, but survived unscathed, left me with a bitter taste in my mouth. Why do I deserve to live and go on and those who died in the battle do not? What's so special about me?_

_Sadly, I do not wish to talk about the lives I've taken and saved. It's a subject I've been unable to broach with even my closest. But instead I find your suggestion of talking about the past with someone manageable. Since we're going to talk more, I wish to know maybe a thing or two about you. My favourite subject is Ancient Runes. My favourite color is violet and favourite food is steak and onion pie, although in small quantities. I hate flying on a broomstick, but I love knitting, although it's not something I want a lot of people to know about. What about you?_

_The author_ '

Severus was glad he was alone, as a tiny smile crept on his face. The letter read innocent, so maybe it was one of the seventh years? But then, even adults could write like that. What was Minerva's favourite subject again? Transfigurations of course. Did Poppy knit? No, as long as he was aware. Did Pomona like flying? Not to his knowledge and he knew for sure she liked knitting, but then her favourite subject was Herbology of course. 

Over the following weeks it became a sort of a game for Severus, trying to find the author of the letters. Of course he replied in turn. His favourite color was black, he loved flying, even though he hadn't played Quidditch in ages, his favourite subjects were equally DADA and Potions and his favorite food was medium-rare steak with a good wine to accompany it. 

They exchanged letters for a couple weeks now and Severus found himself truly enjoying speaking to this person. When their conversations weren't simply self-therapy, he found he was talking to an intelligent and eloquent individual, though he still couldn't gauge whether they were a student or staff. Not once, not even once did this person mention meeting face to face. They seemed comfortable keeping these discussions wrapped in anonymity.

***

Draco stood before the confession boards of the Seventh Floor giving them a look of boredom. ' _Pure rubbish'_ he thought as his eyes examined the myriad of papers. Whose idea was it to bring muggle therapy to Hogwarts? What did all these people even write about? The gaze of the Slytherin scanned attentively the boards and to his complete non-surprise, most of them were people just being sad about whatever had happened to them two years ago.

He was sad about what happened to him two years ago. His father was sentenced to life in Azkaban, his mother was under house-arrest and he had his every move monitored. If we wanted to apparate somewhere, the ministry would know. If he wanted to floo somewhere the ministry would know. He couldn't even fly without notifying someone first. What kind of existence was this? He was sad and he was angry. The general consensus at Hogwarts had changed. Not even the other Slytherins wanted to spend time with a Death Eater child. They avoided him like the plague. He was so alone.

Shrugging, the Slytherin picked a letter apparently at random and decided that if that's what people did for fun these days, then he should join the crowd. 

Later that evening he wrote a reply and returned it to the responder board. Little did he know that in the Gryffindor tower, Ginny Weasley's wand gave one short vibration.

***

Hermione felt glad that in the end she chose to continue writing to her anonymous pen-pal. They seemed to understand her, have great insight into the topics they discussed and always seemed to know what to say. She felt charmed that a person this insightful and clever was somewhere in the castle. Of course she debated meeting them, but once again decided against. Hermione had been just too truthful. It would be quite awkward to know the person she had shared so much with. All for the best. No one needs to get mixed in her convoluted world. For some reason Hermione kept having the nagging thought her pen-pal might be Draco. The Slytherin boy had taken to spending quite a lot of time with her. He proved to be a great study partner, as he always seemed to make their study sessions go by quickly. Who knew Draco had such an affinity for Charms? She would've thought his favourite subject was DADA or Potions, but no. Ginny started to grow more and more cross with her the more time she spent with Draco. 

Little by little Hermione tried to reacquaint herself to the whiff of potions. She couldn't go her entire life without sniffing them again. It was so hard in the beginning, with her gagging so much, but it was starting to get a little better. The surprising thing was that after the initial conversation, Snape hadn't said anything else to her about it. He simply did his job as a teacher and that was it.

The middle of November was rainy and gray, such charming weather. Hermione was just getting ready to go for breakfast one Saturday morning, when Blinky appeared in her room.

"Blinky is sorry to disturb you but Blinky got told to transmit you a message. Your presence is requested at the Keeper's Hut."

"Hagrid?" Hermione replied incredulously.

Not losing another moment she made her way to the Clock Tower, then outside to Hagrid's Hut. From a distance she could hear the half-giant's wail. When he spotted her, he wiped away his tears and came to hug her. Hermione hadn't the heart to tell him that he was crushing her.

"Oh Hermione, so glad ye could come."

"Hagrid, what's wrong?"

"It's just that, Fang is…Fang is…"

But he needn't finish his sentence, as Hermione saw. Close to the hut, Hagrid had dug a pit and near the pit, wrapped in some sheets stood the lifeless body of Fang.

"He was old anyway. I expected it. Any day now, I told myself. But I'm still sad!" And with that he descended into another fit of sobs. 

"Oh, Hagrid."

The two had a small funeral together. Hagrid couldn't stop crying, so Hermione was the one to say a few words about the brave yet cowardly dog. Afterwards, Hagrid went inside the hut to put a kettle on the fire and Hermione simply stared into the forest. She felt upset. She felt more than upset. Something about Hagrid's cries and wails brought to the front of her mind all the cries she heard after the battle. When Mrs. Weasley saw Fred. When Harry saw Lupin and Tonks. When Lavender's parents apparated and saw Lavender. Hermione felt all the progress she made these past few months, trying to put the war behind her, simply evaporate.

It seemed Fang’s death was the final nail in a coffin Hermione didn't even know she was still bearing. A storm of emotions overtook her and her mind darkened. She started screaming. Screaming and crying her heart out. She took a small stone and hurled it around. Her hands quickly found one of Hagrid’s tiny pumpkins and tossed it on the stony path. The pumpkin shattered and small seeds flew around. No small object could escape her wrath. Her wand would not do. This was something she didn't want to do by magic. Her hands had to touch, she had to touch just so that she could still feel something. All that hollowness from the past two years was finally filled with something. Hermione wanted to just scream her lungs out. With vigour and white fury she threw stone after stone into the trees and greenery. Concerned, Hagrid watched her from inside his hut, but did nothing to intervene. It was not his place to do so.

She should have died. She should have died and Fred, Lavender, Colin, Tonks, Lupin, and so many others should have lived. Another scream, another boulder thrown. Her parents did not remember her. Maybe they would never remember her again. For all that’s worth, being the brightest witch of her age didn’t save all these people. It couldn’t even make her able to reverse the memory spell placed on her parents. She gave another shout. Why do people keep leaving her? No matter what she did, she was always alone. Alone with her thoughts, alone in large crowds. Alone. Harry and Ron were away, her parents were away. She felt she was drowning and silently screaming for help.

In the end she tired. She was so tired she could cry no more, she could barely raise her hands. With her face brazed by dry tears, Hermione started to make her way back to the castle but soon she heard Hagrid’s unmistakable steps behind her.

“Hermione, come’n have some tea with me. Warm ye up by the fire.” he said, even though that tingling of sadness was still quite evident in his gaze. 

“Thanks Hagrid but … “ A thousand thoughts raced through her mind. Hermione could not bear look him in the eye right now. “It’s best I make my way back. I promised Ginny help with some of her homework.”

“I understand. Come by anytime. Ye know my door is always open for ye.”

“I know.” 

But she did not go to find Ginny. All she did was go back to her dormitory and sob. Sob in her pillow once again. When Ginny came in, she pretended she was asleep just to be left alone.

In the confines of the night she was safe. In the midst of darkness she was true. She suddenly felt an urge to talk to someone about this. She got up and found a piece of parchment and started to write. She hadn't written to her pen-pal in a hot minute, as she was too busy with her studies. Not even once did she notice that the quill she used was not the one Harry gave her, but a normal quill.


	5. Truths

The last thing Severus expected to be woken up by in the middle of the night, was one short vibration from his wand. His message had finally received a reply! He took a quick look at a clock near his nightstand and sighed. It was two in the morning. For a couple moments, the Head of Slytherin House debated on what to do, but in the end Severus decided that sleep wouldn't grace him again that night. Slowly, he got up and put a nice cashmere black dressing gown over his nightgown and left the dungeons for the seventh floor.

It was the middle of the night, so the elusive author surely had to be part of the staff. No student in their right mind would wander the corridors at this hour, not if they didn't want to lose a great sum of points and get detention. A little bit thrilled, the Potions Master quickly made his way to the Seventh Floor corridor. Casting a delusionment charm on himself, and another charm to muffle his footsteps, he approached the memorial. The corridor was dim, barely lit, but even from a distance he could spot a silhouette in the dark. She was crying. It was a she. Of course, Severus thought, the knitting should have been a giveaway. He silently approached, debating in his mind whether he should cast a Lumos or not, but as if reading his mind, the silhouette stopped crying and started walking away in the opposite direction. Severus melted in the shadows, as he swore he could see a mane of curls disappearing around the corner. Finally, he cast Lumos and approached the memorial. Indeed, a reply awaited him. He took it and made his way back to the dungeons.

The first thing he observed about the reply was that the handwriting was different. It was feminine. It looked familiar, he was sure he had seen it before. With a curious glance, he started reading.

_'To the responder,_

_I am sorry, I am so sorry if my response woke you up in the middle of the night. I just had to talk to someone._

_A dear friend lost someone even dearer to them today and I went to comfort them. I ended up attending the funeral for the departed. It's just… The way the whole thing went, the way they kept crying, it just broke something in me. I was reminded once again of the Final Battle and all the dead, all lined up in the Great Hall. I didn't know whom else to talk to but you. I've been crying so hard the whole day, crying so hard I couldn't even go to bed._

_Please tell me I'm not going crazy. Please tell me I'm not mad. Everyone else seems to be getting on more or less, why is it only me that has these outbursts?_

_The author'_

Severus finished reading and stared into nothingness. Maybe he shouldn't reply anymore. This person's distress was starting to affect him as well. He almost… cared. He almost cared about how she felt. He almost cared that she'd just started making some serious progress with her recovery and now this happened. He almost cared that he'd had some of the best conversations in his life with this person. Severus stared into a corner until sleep took him again.

He woke up on Sunday morning feeling quite groggy and soon made his way to breakfast. By the time he got there all his colleagues were already seated at the table, eating. He simply sat down and drank a coffee, not feeling like any food. Suddenly, an idea crossed his mind.

"Minerva?" He said, putting his cup down. The Headmistress stopped eating and turned to face him. "Did you by any chance go to a funeral yesterday?"

"A funeral?" She responded, her blue eyes looking at him bewildered. "I couldn't leave the castle even if I wanted to! The Board is breathing down my neck and I have just so much work to do."

"Poppy, did you?" He continued, eyeing Madam Pomfrey.

"Severus, you know it's flu season. I didn't leave the infirmary all day yesterday. Drowned to my neck with all these sick students."

"Sinistra? Rolanda? Pomona? Wilhelmina? Irma? Septima?" He said, but each of the female staff shook their heads. They've all been busy in the castle with one thing or the other. Defeated, he started sipping his coffee again, when a conversation between Pomona and Minerva made him stop.

"Have you seen Hagrid?" Pomona asked the Headmistress. "It's just that. I have a root I've grown specifically for him and I was looking forward to giving it to him today."

"Oh, you don't know then." Minerva responded, taking a bite out of her eggs and bacon. "His dog died a couple days ago. He's been cooped up in his hut ever since. I think he buried it yesterday." 

Severus almost choked on his coffee. With not another word, he rose from the table and left the Great Hall under the bewildered stares of all the staff members. He quickly made his way first to the dungeons to grab something, then outside trying his best not to start running. With a hurried move, he finally knocked on Hagrid's door. 

Hagrid opened the door and the first thing Severus saw were his red eyes. He was crying. 

"Perfesser Snape." Hagrid said, looking quite surprised. "Can I help ye?"

"My condolences." Severus responded, stepping in the hut. "I heard from Minerva about your dog."

The mention of the dog only seemed to make the half-giant start sobbing again. Severus tried to neutralise his emotions and allow Hagrid his space. He spoke again.

"You buried him yesterday, didn't you?" 

"Ye. Right outside me Hut, right where he liked it." Hagrid said, blowing his nose.

"Were you alone?" 

"Alone? Merlin no! Hermione was with me. She said just the most beautiful words about Fang. A golden heart, that girl has. You know Perfessor, I worry about her. She seemed as upset as me. She started screaming and breaking me pumpkins. I let her of course, all of us have different ways of dealing with our grief."

It took a couple moments for Severus to register the words of the half-giant. Then he felt the ground open up and swallow him. Hagrid’s words didn’t reach him anymore. Granger? Granger was the woman behind the letters? But then that meant… ‘ _My hands around his neck_.’

Hagrid seemed to notice that Severus wasn’t listening anymore. “I talk too much. I dinny know why I'm telling ye this.” he said, looking at the Potions Master with sad eyes. With a quick move, Severus extracted a small vial from his pocket and put it on the table.

“It will help you with your grief. Drink it before bed.” he said before exiting the hut. 

Severus didn’t know how, but before he knew it he was back in his office in the dungeons. The world was a blur now. With a shaking hand, he searched through an infernal pile of essays until he found Granger’s. Finally, barely breathing, he produced the latest letter from the anonymous author and placed it near the essay. The writing was identical. 

Granger. Granger. Granger. Why did fate love to taunt him so? Why make him miserable?

The person he started to open up to in these past couple weeks, the person who wrote so beautifully, so eloquently, the person who was so traumatized, the person he almost started to care about, was Granger? Severus felt his head was just about to burst. Before he knew it, he was in his personal quarters with a bottle of Firewhiskey in his hand. Leaving the whole letter business aside, was Granger the one who saved him? It made sense from some point of view. She was by Potter’s side the moment he cried his memories to Potter. She was the only one smart enough to know how to stabilize a wound like his so quickly. She must’ve had some dittany on her and Potter must’ve given her some Liquid Luck from Horace Slughorn. 

But then, why did he have to find out this way? Why didn’t Granger tell him? Why should she tell him? Severus berated himself. It was clear she didn’t want him to know. Not even the mediwitches at St. Mungo’s knew who brought him in. This revelation kept Severus bound to his quarters and before he knew it was dinner time. 

The only thing that mattered was how he would approach this. He wanted to talk to her, that was as sure as the sun rising. But then, when would it be best ? In the end, he decided that Friday would be best, after the seventh year Potions class.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A shorter chapter this week, to prepare y'all for what's coming next week :)


	6. The Potions-master

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I always imagined the Potions classroom like the room from the first HP movie, the one where Snape says "Potter. Our new celebrity." Just so you have a visual heads-up.

Friday just couldn’t come fast enough. Severus had used all his inner reserves of calm and motivation to wait. He watched her at meal times, he watched her and thought just how dared she? How dare she save him? He owned a due to the universe and when the universe had finally come to collect, had finally come to put him out of this miserable life, she denied him his due. Snape experienced a range of emotions that week, from denial to anger to raw fury to gratitude to confusion and so many more. Friday just couldn’t come fast enough. 

In the end, it did and after the seventh year Potion class, he finally said the words he’d been waiting to voice the entire week. 

“Granger, please stay behind.”

The woman with frizzly, chestnut hair looked confused at the Weasley girl, but did as instructed. When the classroom finally stood empty, with a move of his wand Severus closed the doors and charmed them. No one would come in unless he willed it so. He displayed a neutral expression, but his mind was on fire. With heavy steps, he made his way to the front of the class and finally talked.

“On the desk, Granger. Have a look.” The woman did as instructed and although he couldn’t see her expression, he knew she had frozen in her place. On the desk her latest letter and one of her past essays awaited her. 

“Care to explain?” he continued, trying not to tap his fingers. Granger turned and panicky looked towards the door. There was no escape from this conversation, he’d taken care of it. “Granger, are you the author of the letters?”

Hermione turned to face him, her big, brown eyes fixated on him and a look of pure panic on her face. The more she delayed, the angrier Severus got. The silence was just maddening. With a swift move, the man closed the distance between them and forcefully grabbed her marked arm. The scar on Hermione's arm started stinging and she violently tried freeing herself from his grip but to no avail, he was stronger. The Death Eater tattoo on Snape's arm started aching and Severus knew it was reacting to the dark magic from Hermione's scar.

"It was you. Wasn't it?" Snape said with an angered growl. Hermione felt his burning gaze and knew her thoughts were being read. "I should have known it was you." His grip tightened even more. "Why did you not let me die?"

"Of course it was  _ me _ . Who else knew your body lay in the Shrieking Shack? Who else?!" Hermione responded. She started softly shaking, the adrenaline of the situation pumping fast through her body. His grip started to become extremely painful as her scar kept stinging at his touch. "Harry left thinking you dead, but me? I fought for your life. I fought to my last shred of conscience. Had I left, by the time anyone found you, you would have been long dead."

Severus let go of her arm and took a few steps back. The look of panic on Hermione’s face now changed to one of fury.

"Do you think I want this?!" She shouted, breaking the concealment charm placed on her arm. On her hand glistened the word 'Mudblood' forever carved into her skin. "Do you think I don't wake up everyday and wish I could cut it away?! Just cut it away and pour Dittany over it, so the skin grows back. YOU have no idea how hard everything is for me! All you do is be mean and cold and distant, even after your life was saved."

Severus tried hard to cling to a last shred of calmness and not morph the discussion into a shouting match. But a threshold was reached and surpassed before he even had the chance to truly realize the heat of the moment.

"You can't ground me! You cannot give me detention! You can take away all the House Points you wish, but there is nothing,  **_nothing_ ** you can do that will ever come close to what I had to live through the war! Nagini sunk its fangs in me, Bellatrix marked me, I have been burned, I have been cut, I have been tortured and crucioed, do you think I fear you?!"

There was no going back with her. She would never again be just a student and he just her professor. The history between the Trio and him was not something that could be so easily cast aside and forgotten.

"Expel me for all I care. I am of age and more experienced than any student in this castle. The only reason I came back is to feel a shred of the life I used to have before the War. I will not let you or anyone else come between me and that." Hermione said, finally finishing her long monologue. She felt angry, she felt brave but most importantly, she felt alive. It was as if a great weight was finally lifted from her chest. She stood there, breathing heavily and felt tears of anger fall upon her cheeks while her burning eyes scouted the Potions-Master. 

The look in Snape's eyes was that of pure anger. Hermione could imagine it was not very often someone stood up to him or even more, shouted at him. "Leave." That was all he managed to say. "Now." 

Not waiting for a second cue, Hermione left. She did not look back.

Soon enough silence fell. Severus did not move for what felt like an eternity, still trying to process what just happened. Then his legs seemed to give in and struggling, he sat down at one of the student desks.

Snape did something he hadn't done in twenty years, ever since Lily's death. He cried. He sobbed and sobbed, cried for Lily, cried for the life he could have had, cried for his near death, cried for the fact that all he's ever wanted was to belong. He cried until there was nothing left and all he could feel was numbness.  It was not a pretty sight, but it got the job done. By the end of it he felt somewhat lighter.  Granger. It was Granger who saved him. Granger who fought for his life, whose mercy gave him his second chance. But why? Why did she save him? Why did she keep it a secret from him? Had he not picked up her letter that day, would he have ever found out?  Granger saving him… it changed everything. How could he look her in the eyes, how could he grade her work, teach her, even be in her near vicinity knowing it was her who healed him when she had no reason to do so.

Severus needed to think. He needed to think long and hard on what his next actions were. One thing he knew for sure, he needed to talk to her again.

***

Hermione ran. She ran and ran until the sky was above her and the beginning of the Forbidden Forest stood before her. She fell to her knees in the grass and started gasping for air. She was hyperventilating. She started wailing and punching the ground with her fists. 

Snape? Snape was the person she wrote her most guarded secrets to? Snape was the person she told about her depression, her anxiety, her almost suicidal attempts, her self-starvation, her nightmares, her doubts, her worries and her hopes and dreams for the future? Hermione couldn't breathe. She kept clutching her stomach trying to breathe. How would she ever face the man again?

***

Granger did not come to the next Potions lesson. Nor to the one after that and the one after that. Severus managed to sometimes spot her in the Great Hall, but she always stood at the furthest point of the Gryffindor table with her back turned and never, not even once, did she glance in the direction of the Staff table. He knew she was avoiding him.  Snape tried finding her in all the places he knew she frequented like the library or the Transfiguration Courtyard, but the moment he came close to her vicinity, Granger simply vanished. Severus started to become frustrated. He was not used to chasing after someone.

One Thursday evening, weeks after their heated altercation, close to Christmas, Severus felt he’d had enough. Taking some parchment he quickly scribbled a note, then attached it to the leg of his personal owl, a pure-black specimen called Glen. The owl had been a "get well soon" gift from Minerva when he was in St Mungo's, something to get him to communicate more. 

With a hoot, Glen quickly flew out of the window and was soon lost to the darkness of the night. The note was short and it read:

_ 'Miss Granger, _

_ I would like to request your presence tomorrow night at 8.30pm in my office. _

_ Severus Snape' _

***

She read the letter and felt her hands starting to tremble.  Following their disastrous conversation and after she had calmed down, the first thing Hermione did was go straight to the Headmistress' office. Hermione wasn't a very good liar, but she wasn't really going to tell McGonagall a lie. 

"Headmistress, I would like to drop Potions until the next semester. To the best of my efforts, being in the vicinity of a potion still makes me incredibly nauseous. I will catch up by self-studying."

Minerva eyed her quite worried, but accepted her request.

"Maybe another visit with Poppy might help?" She said as she signed Hermione's permission slip for the class drop.

The moment Hermione received that slip was the moment she did her best to disappear off the face of the earth whenever Severus Snape was near, by any means necessary. Even the mere sight of him triggered a near panic attack.

Hermione knew he'd been trying to talk to her. She felt his piercing gaze anytime she was eating her breakfast in the Great Hall. She felt him searching for her every time she was in the library, trying to do her homework. In the end Hermione simply resorted to never leaving the Gryffindor common room, but Severus Snape was nothing if not a resilient man.

Ginny looked at her with a surprised glance, then her eyes fell back on her parchment. She was writing a letter and seemed pretty happy. Hermione couldn't have known, but Ginny was quite cheery when it came to her new pen-pal. It felt really good to talk to someone, truly talk to someone about what she had to face during the war: Fred's death, the stress present nowadays in the Weasley family, the treatment the Carrows brought within Hogwarts before the Final Battle, as well as what it means to be the Chosen One's partner. Ginny had lost count on how many anonymous threats she had gotten in the past two years. Missives informing her in all sorts of ways that she was weak, she should have been by Harry's side during his secret mission, that she wasn't fit to be Harry's girlfriend and many, many others. She had told Harry and her family, but in truth there wasn't much they could do about it, apart from stopping to receive any correspondence altogether.

"Who's it from?" she asked Hermione while tying her bright red hair in a ponytail.

"Snape wants to see me. Probably to talk about the fact that I dropped his class."

Ginny flapped her robe and tried making squealing sounds. Her bat impression was so poor. Hermione laughed and gave her friend a nudge. Nothing to lift her mood faster than a friend.

Friday came and went by at such a quick pace that Hermione stood in pure disbelief when she glanced at her wrist watch and saw that it was already 7.30pm. Only one hour until her supposed meeting with Snape. The closer the hour drew, the more agitated she'd become.  There was nothing he could do to her if she chose not to attend. This much she brought to his attention when a couple weeks prior she shouted that in comparison to the war, a couple days detention and some extra homework was child's play.

8.00pm. Half an hour left. Hermione felt more nervous with every passing minute. She started to pace throughout the Gryffindor common room in an attempt to soothe her nerves, but to no avail. She had to go. She couldn't go on like this for the rest of the year. Ginny, who was writing a DADA essay at the table near the window, rose and put a hand on her shoulder. Hermione twitched.

"Are you alright? You look white as a sheet, even worse than before you sat your O.W.L.s." 

"Yeah. I'm just nervous…" Think. An excuse, anything. "That I'm behind on my homework. I really want to be on top since this is our final year." 

"Are you kidding me?" Ginny said, then gave Hermione a large hug. She welcomed it, it felt like ages since anyone gave her even the slightest display of affection. "You basically never leave the common room nowadays. You're always with a book in your hand. Hermione, you're ace!" 

Her friend's encouragement worked as Hermione felt a bit better. Her nerves were soothed. She mentally thanked Ginny for being such a good friend and watched Ginny give her an encouraging nod.

"Do you want me to go with you to the Dungeons?" She asked Hermione.

"No, I'll be fine. Thanks Ginny. For everything." Her friend gave her one last glance, then went back to the window table to finish the essay. 

Taking a deep breath, Hermione left the common room and started to make her way to the dungeons. 

***

At exactly 8.30pm sharp there was a knock on the door. Severus, who was grading some fifth year essays, did not raise his eyes from the pile of parchments.

"Enter." He said in a monotone voice. The door opened, then closed and soon enough a silhouette hovered near the desk. "Sit." he ordered, motioning to the chair in front of the desk. A couple moments later, silence fell. Severus put the essays away, finally ready to start. 

Granger sat on the chair in front of the desk, her eyes fixating him, emotionless. Her hair stood on one of her shoulders in a beautiful braid and her cheeks were rosy. For a split second, Severus wondered why he had observed such details. Finally, he spoke:

"It has come to my attention that your attendance in Potions was extremely poor for these last few weeks. Have you simply decided you no longer need academic help or simply deigned your presence no longer necessary in any of my classes?" 

So this is how it was going to go.

"I have decided to undergo self-study for the rest of this semester, Sir. The Headmistress is aware of my predicament and approved my temporary leave. I am already on top of all the necessary work needed for extra credit. Is this all Professor?" She finished and Snape could swear there was a faint hint of a smirk on her face. 

"You simply… decided to temporarily drop my class and chose not to inform me?" He continued in his unmistakable slow and sarcastic tone. To no avail it seemed. Granger was no First year, he could not intimidate her. He decided to drop the act. It wasn't her academic success that interested him. "Do you think I don't know you've been avoiding me? Do you think I don't see how you vanish every time I am in your vicinity?"

"Vanish?" She responded in the most shocked tone she could muster. "You surely must be mistaken, Professor. Why would I be avoiding you?" 

His patience started to wear thin. Snape wasn't one to play games. 

"You're not the only one, Miss Granger, who has frequent audiences with our Headmistress. Last we spoke she mentioned something most curious about you."

Ah, there it was. Her mask of confidence started to drop. Snape knew he was getting close to hitting a sensible chord.

"I know about your parents, Granger. I believe I can help them." 

From all the phrases Snape could've spoken, this was the last Hermione expected. Her eyes widened in a shocked expression and for the first time that evening, Severus knew he had her whole attention. 

"Not so witty now? Are we?" Snape continued with the biggest smirk. "Throughout my years of research, I have put the basis of an experimental Memory Restoration Potion. The potion is potent enough to restore even the harshest memory charms. Though, it is still unfinished. You know of my past and expertise as a Potion-maker Granger, you know there is a real chance to create something grand."

Severus joined his fingers together and reveled in her shock. Her cheeks seemed to turn even flusher and her eyes glistened.

"I need an assistant. I would like you to research the properties of this potion and expand upon my research in your remaining time at Hogwarts. We would convene every Friday and Saturday evening to continue our work. What do you say?"

He was prepared to offer her a couple days time of mulling over the offer. If their last interaction taught him something, it was that Granger might be impulsive. Her response came as an equal shock to him.

"I accept."


	7. Dark eyes

It was awfully busy around him, that is for a Saturday. The entrance hall of the Ministry of Magic stood grandiose as usual, with just so many people running out and about to their business. For some reason Harry felt drowsy that morning. Like he was in need of a respite, but didn’t know of what kind. He walked slowly through the hall, unwilling to pay attention for once to the crowd around him. Finally, he stopped in front of the great statue that adorned the entrance hall, no more a statue depicting muggles getting crushed by the wizarding world, but muggles and wizards living in cooperation.

He took deep breaths as a sudden flashback came to him. Just two years ago he was in this very hall, disguised as Albert Runcorn, trying to infiltrate the Ministry in order to find Dolores Umbridge and RAB’s locket. He remembered it as if it was yesterday, just how paralyzed with fear he felt that day, trying his best to fit into the crowd. Keeping his head down, not daring to meet anyone’s eyes, waiting for the moment someone recognized him and raised the alarm. 

Now look at him, he was in the very same hall unobstructed, an employee of the institution that just two years ago decreted him “Undesirable no. 1” and encouraged an entire country to turn against him. Why was he working here anyway? Somewhere in his heart, Harry knew what the answer was. But he wasn’t ready to talk about it with someone, not even Ginny.

Harry felt directionless, purposeless. His whole life, the last ten years of his life at least were spent fighting Voldermort in one way or another. Now that it was done, Harry didn’t know what to do with himself anymore. He tried his best to lead a normal life. He clinged to whatever people and places he had that made him feel normal. Did he take this job at the Ministry only to have something to do every day? He had enough gold in his Gringotts vault to live comfortably for the remainder of his life, he didn’t need the job money. Why did he take this job? His duties as an Auror were to pursue and deal with dark witches and wizards. Was it that his duties reminded him of the days of the war? Did he need this constant reminder to function?

Harry closed his eyes. He knew it, he felt it in his heart. The war never ended for him. Pursuing these witches and wizards as an Auror was what kept him going every day. Every day when he went into this job, even as a trainee, he expected to see the worst of the wizardkind. When he went out into the field to fight and capture the remnants of Death Eaters, every time he waited for it. To hear that cold voice calling him… ‘ _ Harry Potter, come to die. _ ’

He felt a heavy hand land on his shoulder and Harry was surprised to find Ron smiling by his side.

“You alright mate?” he asked, his blue eyes scouting Harry’s green.

“What are you doing here? I thought you had a shift yesterday night.”

“Yeah, but you know how it is. Got a note I’m on double duty. All the more reason, we get to work together innit?” 

“Suppose you’re right.” 

“Aight, let’s go.” 

Harry let himself be led by Ron to the elevators. He gave one last look to the statue and thought that this job would be the end of him. This job would never allow him to heal from the war. He missed Hogwarts. Hogwarts was his home.

***

On Saturday morning when Hermione woke up alone in her shared dormitory, images of the last evening immediately rushed to her mind. She could still picture Snape smiling rancorously, presenting her with an offer one might find hard to refuse. Severus Snape was the last man she expected to offer her help. They were to meet that evening to start the research. Hermione couldn't help but wonder how different it will be to a normal Potions lesson. 

Was she mad? She had to be. To accept such an offer on the spot. What did she sign up for? To be by the side of the same individual whose mere name made her hands tremble just a while back. But for her parents? She would do anything. Even work by the side of one Severus Snape.

Ginny left early for practice as she was still part of the Gryffindor Quidditch team, though not the captain anymore. Hermione appreciated what little time alone she had, it helped her put some order to her thoughts. It was a Saturday still and she realized that all this business with avoiding Snape had kept her away from enjoying the outside. Dressing up in a pair of tight jeans and a large and warming hoodie, then her coat and mittens, Hermione left the common room for the Entrance Courtyard. She wondered where to go.

Her feet carried her away, down the long and winding stairs that led to the Boathouse. There she found a clear patch of ground and sat down by the lake. It was peaceful. Hard to picture that just two years prior that entire part of the castle lay destroyed. They've done a wonderful job rebuilding the castle. It looked as if the Final Battle never took place. That is apart from the monument dedicated to the victims on the Seventh Floor. 

A pair of steps behind her startled her and Hermione was to discover that Draco too found his way to the Boathouse. With a mute acknowledgement, the Slytherin lay down on the patch of ground near her. Draco didn't say anything for a while, content with just the silence. Hermione was the one to break the silence.

"You're always alone these days."

That seemed to make Draco laugh. It was nice to hear him happy for once.

"That much of a difference without blokes like Crabbe, Goyle and Zabini, huh? Maybe I finally realized I should sweat a little over my academic results. Two years is a lot of catching up time. I feel I am pretty up to date, mainly due to your help.”

Draco's gaze went back to the lake. He seemed to carry such a melancholic air that day. "Haven't seen you in Potions in a while. Kind of miss seeing you trying to make potions having that balloon around your head. Why is that anyway? You never said."

"Not something I want to talk about, Draco."

"Oh, come on." He gave her a friendly nudge. "Promise I won't tell."

"Draco!"

"Alright, alright. No need to get cross with me. I was just curious. We Slytherins look out after our own."

Hermione's eyes rose and looked into Draco's blue. "You've changed a lot."

"Figures being on friendly terms with the next Ministry of Magic won't hurt." He said jokingly, but Hermione froze. It was like the boy who bullied her and Ron and Harry all these years had never existed to begin with. Someone else took his place.

"You really think I'm going to be the next Minister?"

"Why not? I remember your SPEW thing and I know once you put your mind to something it's as good as done. I was shown one of your DA meeting coins. Impressive bit of magic. I think if you wanted it, you could become the next Minister after Kingsley. You'd have the Malfoy family support, it that counts for anything these days."

At his words Hermione hugged him. Draco was completely taken by surprise. "Who are you and what have you done with the real Draco Malfoy?" 

"I guess that Draco got lost somewhere in the war." He said with a sigh. "I miss my father." Silence followed his words, as Hermione was simply absorbed in studying his expressions. Draco truly was upset. He was just trying to hide it. As if guessing her thoughts, the Slytherin got up and helped Hermione up as well.

"Alright, come on Granger. I've wallowed in self-pity enough. I really feel like a hot chocolate."

***

Severus was absolutely shocked that Granger accepted his offer. Didn't Minerva say Granger was suffering from a heavy potion allergy? Even her letters seemed to hint at it. Nevertheless, it all worked out to Severus' advantage. He was to be enclosed with her in a room a couple times a week, time enough for Severus to approach the subject of his rescue quite delicately. It was a win any way Severus looked at it. With her help, he might even get to finish the potion. Maybe she could find her parents and restore their memories. He found himself to be incredibly impatient the entire day, just waiting for the evening to come faster.

He berated Granger all her school years, but even he had to admit: the girl had potential. She just needed a guiding hand. Severus took great care to prepare their workspace as efficiently as possible. This wasn't a known and tried potion, this was experimental, meaning if things went wrong, he had to be there to take care of things fast. 

Finally evening came and soon, Severus heard a knock on the classroom door.

"Enter." He said in his usual monotone voice. Granger came in wearing her school uniform, her hair tied neatly in a bun. Compared to the Welcoming Feast, Granger truly looked healthier. Not without a cost of course. She described it in detail in her letters, but Snape had no desire to bring those up yet. She looked at him expectantly.

"We will work in my private laboratory." Severus said, beckoning her forth. Granger followed him obediently, not muttering a single word. They made their way out of the classroom and into his office, where at a touch of his wand a wall opened, only to show a beautiful workroom. Hermione marveled. It looked completely different to the dark classroom that had all sorts of jars on the walls. It was a pretty luminous chamber, with shelves full of books. To the back there stood a big window, showing a view under the lake. On a table in the middle two cauldrons stood ready, as well as several jars. Hermione turned her gaze to Snape and waited for his instructions. 

"Best we start by explaining both the exact aim of this potion as well as the process I've gone through up to this point. Look into the cauldron, Miss Granger. Can you tell me what does the current mixture consist of?"

Hermione approached the cauldrons and took a whiff. She had worked so hard with Blinky and Madam Pomfrey to keep to her special diet and take her medication. There was some progress in her treatment from the overdose, but it still was hard for her to be around any potion for too long. That feeling of nausea was still there, but she found it manageable. She studied the color, the texture, the smell and sneakily tried looking at the various jars on the table.

"Syrup of Hellebore. Snakeskin. Honeywater. Dried Pixie wings. Lovage." She said, hoping she didn’t miss anything. 

"Hmmm. Why did I add some of these ingredients?" She almost got all of them. It would be extremely hard for a non-advanced potioneer to spot ingredients in a potion on the spot, but he knew Granger wasn’t just anyone.

"Lovage is used as an ingredient mainly in a Befuddlement Draught. You've added it so that the patient won't be confused by the sudden apparition of older memories. The Syrup of Hellebore is used a lot in the Draught of Peace. I suppose that is to calm down the patient when their memories are brought back. Snakes are extremely resilient creatures and depending on the species, long lived, so the snake skin is there to stabilize both the newer and the returned memories and allow them to coexist. Honeywater is an excellent stabilizer for the potion composition. I'm not sure about the Pixie wings."

Snape nodded and pointed a finger to a stack of papers on the table. Hermione glanced at it and saw a lot of complicated formulas.

"Pixie wings were added because of Arithmancical calculations. Until now all the ingredients you've listed are for stabilizing the patient and the memories, but what about bringing the memories back? I know Arithmancy is a favourite of yours, so my notes shouldn't give you trouble. For today you are to recreate my progress. You are to study my calculations and come prepared by next Friday? Is that understood?"

"Yes, Professor." Hermione responded curtly and took her place by the second cauldron. She filled it and let it boil, while slicing snake skin into thin lines.

Snape took a quill and his Arithmancy notes. He needed to reach an end to these calculations. Not only did they help him determine the exact quantity of each ingredient, but they also gave him clues as to the next needed ingredient. Muggles might have thought making a potion was nothing more than chucking ingredients in a cauldron, but Potions at its core was truly a precise and mathematical art. Every number counted in a potion. The time of brewing, the time of stirring, the time of boiling, the quantity of ingredients, the time between the addition of each ingredient and much more. 

They worked in silence. At some point Hermione raised her eyes from the cauldron and looked at Snape. He was so engrossed in his calculations, that he didn't observe her look. She was so engrossed in her potion-making that for a while she forgot just how scared and angry the man had made her a couple weeks ago. Hermione noted how in his concentration he always seemed to bite the tip of his writing quill and wrinkle his nose. Why was she thinking about that? She quickly lowered her gaze. 

All his current research was potent, but Hermione felt he started the process the wrong way around. She didn't have the guts to tell him that though, not yet. Sometime later, Snape put the quill down and went to one of the shelves, where he extracted two voluminous tomes. Curiously, Hermione gave a quick glance, only to discover the covers of both books were adorned in runes.

"No need to gawk, Granger. You can ask questions." These tomes were the property of the school and had belonged to many Potion teachers before him. 

"Runes, Sir?" She said, coming a bit closer to examine the books. Hermione quickly translated the titles. "Bubbling Concoctions - a memoir to 12th Century Potion Making" and the other "Draughts - The Potions of forever."

"Your translation is correct. I know your…" but he stopped himself before finishing the sentence.  _ 'I know your favourite subject is Ancient Runes _ .' He had no desire to bring the letters up now and for the better part it seemed Granger was of the same mind. 

"My what, Sir?" She asked, looking at him with an almost frown.

"Professor Babbling has complimented your results in Runes on a variety of occasions. Hard for someone not to take notice." 

Hermione did not buy the explanation, but did nothing but nod. "Why do you need these books, Sir?" She continued.

"Runes never was my favourite subject in school. My knowledge is sufficient, but not enough. The old Potion Masters of this school had some interesting tricks up their sleeve." 

"I can translate. I translated a very old copy of the Tales of Beedle the Bard three years ago. Although I believe Beedle simply took the text and added his name to it, as the text was as old as the foundation of Hogwarts itself. It proved instrumental in our defeat of Voldemort." Her voice trailed off. Severus watched her with a raised eyebrow. He was so close to making a comment about her being a know-it-all, but abstained himself. 

"Very well. Next week is the last week we shall meet until the new trimester starts. Perhaps, you can do us both a favour and try and translate one of the two during the Holidays. Finish the Potion, then you may go."

An hour later Hermione was leaving the dungeons with one of the tomes under her arm. It was quite heavy. She had to admit. The session had been almost civil. It was as if the altercation from a couple weeks back never happened. Maybe Snape realized the truth of what she shouted at him. He could be as nasty as he wanted, he could give her as many detentions as he wished, but she would never be afraid of him again. She was his equal. Now she only needed that graduation certificate to prove it. A fire burned in Hermione's eyes. Maybe she was no Potions Mistress, but damned it be she was the brightest witch of her age and the dungeon bat will have to eat his words when she was going to earn the highest results this school has ever seen. Maybe even help him finish his potion. Maybe even cure her parents.

***

The last Friday before students were to leave for the Holidays finally came and Hermione was more than excited at the thought of spending a big Christmas at the Burrow. Ginny seemed to borrow her enthusiasm as well, as she looked more and more cheerful.

Late that Friday Hermione made her way to Snape’s private laboratory, being in quite a gleeful mood. His Arithmancy notes were resting safely in her school bag and she had already started on translating the tome. That’s when Hermione felt best, when she was ahead of all her tasks. She entered Snape’s office and found the entrance to the laboratory open. He was expecting her. 

"Good evening." She said in a curt tone. Snape merely nodded. He was chopping what looked like a Hippogriff tail. "I examined your Arithmancy notes, Sir." Hermione continued, trying to get a conversation going. The only way they were to make progress was if they started communicating. Every step in the right direction, was one step closer to healing her parents.

"Yes?" Snape responded, his onyx eyes fixating her. "I presume you found them adequate?"

"Incredibly complex. Had I not been in my last year of education, it would have been an impossible endeavor to examine them."

"This is why you were chosen for this task and not someone else. Start by extracting the juices out of these billywig roots." Snape concluded and pointed to the second cauldron.

Once again, they worked in silence. Yet today, Hermione found herself glancing at the man more often. He was dicing his pile of ingredients with a masterful touch. They needed to calculate the weight of the base ingredients of the potion carefully. The ingredients that had to do with locking the memories were all found, but the potion still needed a strong base. After a couple hours, Hermione started to get drowsy, so with an annoyed look Snape dismissed her. Hermione packed her bag and made a move to go, but Snape's voice stopped her. He motioned towards the table where now a small flask stood.

"For your arm." He said. Hermione lingered a moment too long, watching him with a surprised expression. Then she took the vial and made her exit. Before going to bed she applied the balm from the flask on the scar Bellatrix left her and immediately felt an incredible relief for a pain she didn't even know she had. 

Why was Snape helping her? Especially after her shouting in his face about how untouchable she was. Hermione realized Snape hadn't mentioned the fact that he knew she was his saviour ever since she confirmed it. Was it all to say thanks? Was all this Potion business just a convoluted method of paying his life debt to her? Hermione went to bed, more confused than ever.


End file.
